


Firetail Squadron

by NickelModelTales



Series: I Serve and Obey the Masters [1]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Action/Adventure, Alien Invasion, Brainwashing, F/M, Female Friendship, Fighter Pilots, Hypnotism, Mind Control, Porn With Plot, Science Fiction, Smut, War, Women Being Awesome, Women in the Military
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-20
Updated: 2020-12-20
Packaged: 2021-03-10 18:46:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 6
Words: 18,814
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28201815
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NickelModelTales/pseuds/NickelModelTales
Summary: An erotic hypnosis alien invasion story, told in two parts.  PART ONE:  When Earth is attacked by beings from another world, a beautiful young spacefighter commander and her pilots are on the front lines of the battle.  But the aliens seek to mesmerize all humans into submission…
Series: I Serve and Obey the Masters [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2065941
Kudos: 12





	1. Cassandra Tarran

**_California, October 2219_ **

“ _There they are,_ ” Bex’s voice said sharply through the fighter’s comm system. “ _21.7 clicks, bearing 14-by-4._ ”

Commander Cassandra “Cass” Tarran immediately looked through the portside canopy of her Bladehawk spacefighter, allowing her helmet HUD the enhance the image. The beautiful African-American pilot watched as the scanning computer sifted through the visual data, zeroing in on Bex’s vocal directions.

Four fuzzy blips appeared in the visual, skimming over the scorched earth below. They rapidly gained detail as the computer intensified its scans.

“I see ‘em,” Cass announced.

“ _Roger that, me too,_ ” echoed Yanada, her voice tight. The rest of Firetail Squadron quickly signaled acknowledgement.

Cass didn’t wait for the computer analysis. “Looks like a set of supply ships,” she judged aloud. “Flying low and slow, hoping we didn’t catch ‘em. The Knanti are getting superstitious.”

“ _I also read about three hundred lifesigns down in the rocks, Commander,_ ” reported Deckie, Yanada’s copilot. “ _Could be a landed battalion._ ”

“Ground troops,” Cass snarled. “Fuck, we can’t let them get away. Firetails Six, Seven, Eight: dispatch and destroy. Nothing lives.”

“ _Roger that,_ ” replied the other pilots. The broke formation and rocketed toward the ground, already arming dreadful weapons.

“ _Boss, the flying boogies are accelerating,_ ” warned Bex. “ _They know we see them._ ”

“Yeah, well, too late for the Knanti pilots to escape now,” Cass snorted. “Squad, charge pulse cannons and plasmaburners. We’re gonna fry them all before they can get spaceborne.” Already, the young commander’s fingers were slapping the power regulator controls on her dashboard. She flipped her visual display to **_BATTLE RED_**.

“On my lead,” she ordered her squadron, then shoved her throttle forward.

In less than 600 milliseconds, Cass’s 80 kilogram Bladehawk T-35 spacefighter shot to 8,600 KMPH (Kilometers/Hour), shuddering only briefly as it tore through the sound barrier. In her pressurized flight suit, Cass felt only a slight bump. She gripped the flight stick, gently banking the armored craft to port.

“ _Targets have cranked up to Mach 6,_ ” warned Bex, her professional voice cool. “ _Boss, they might-_ “

“Bex, charge up the forward gun pod,” ordered Cass.

“ _Roger that._ ”

“TTI?”

“ _Time to Intercept, 28 seconds._ ”

“Squad pilots, switch to synaptic interfaces,” Cass barked, already activating the switch on the side of her helmet.

There was reason Defense Command only permitted women as combat pilots. The war against the alien Knanti invaders had been brutal. Every technical and psychological edge that humans could gain over the enemy was vital and necessary. Female pilots were physically lighter, which conserved fuel, but also they had a better cognitive record of tracking multiple airborne targets. Finally, women had demonstrated a higher mental capacity than men to interface with a ships’ neural operating system. This last distinction had proved crucial.

As the synaptic interface came online, Cass felt her body relax and her mind clear. The tension and tinge of fear she’d felt melted away. Her thoughts focused. The fighter’s computer awaited her mental commands. There was only her, the machine, and the sky. She was in absolute control.

The beautiful young commander briefly reviewed her power distribution inventory, satisfied with current levels. She bumped up the shield efficiency with a quick thought, then brought her full attention back to the visual display of the enemy.

“ _Twelve seconds,_ ” Bex reported.

The Knanti raiders were fleeing at top speed, not trying to climb yet. For the moment, Cass and her squadron had them pinned.

“ _Ready for target assignment,_ ” Yanada said.

Cass allowed her subconscious to make lightening calculations. “Yan and Tomcat, on the starboard wingman,” she ordered. “Jess and Scorch, the port. Ignore the leader and tail for now.”

“ _Roger,_ ” replied her pilots.

“ _Targets are backtracing!_ ” Bex said sharply. “ _Repeat, targets-_ “

There was no time. “Free engage!” cried Cass, and threw her flight stick forward.

Everything happened in less than three seconds. The Knanti, realizing the hopelessness of their situation, had rocketed upward. No doubt they hoped to dash into space before the humans could reach them. At the same time, their gunners had opened fire, spraying charged plasma at Cass’s squadron with abandon.

But the human pilots were ready. Cass and her wingsisters twisted in the air, dodging fire but holding their attack formation. Cass felt her own craft kick as Bex fired the forward cannons.

Two of the raiders burst into bright orange blossoms of flame.

Alarms sounded within Cass’s neural interface. Her ship had been struck by a few errant blasts, but the armor was holding. Nonetheless, the young pilot quickly transferred reserve energy to the repellor generators.

“ _Boss,_ ” Bex warned in her ear, “ _the Knanti are probing our comm frequencies._ ”

“Again? Damnit,” spat Cass, already switching to the defensive encryptor. There would be a few precious seconds before all her pilots made the same adaptation and they could verbally communicate again.

Already, the two surviving Knanti were racing spaceward, frantically deploying seeker drones as chafe.

“They’re not getting away that easy,” Cass vowed, yanking her stick back. “Bex, get those-“

“ _On it._ ”

Cass guided her ship skyward, allowing her copilot to fend off the drones. Before her, the two remaining raiders were streaking away. In another twenty seconds, they’d tie in their blaster engines, and then nothing manmade could catch them.

“ _Hey there,_ ” a male voice said in Cass’s speaker. “ _You ladies need an assist?_ ”

Despite her concentration, Cass grinned. “Hey Tyedye. Naw, we’re good.”

“ _You sure?_ ” the man offered. “ _My missile guys could-_ “

“No time,” snapped Cass. “Bex, when am I clear?”

“ _Working on the firing lock,_ ” Bex replied, her voice stressed. “ _Another few seconds…_ ”

Yanada chimed in: “ _Commander, we’re gonna lose ‘em._ ”

“ _Yeah,_ ” agreed Tyedye.

“Shuddup,” growled Cass. “Bex?”

Before her, the Knanti’s blaster engines were lighting up.

“ _Fuck!_ ” swore Bex. “ _Miscalc!_ ”

“Forget it,” Cass barked. She hit an enhancement button on her helmet.

Immediately, the young pilot felt her muscles relax even more. She felt calm. There was all the time in the world.

With impressive speed, Cass’s mind flew through the neural interface, recalibrating her ship’s weapons. She selected the two forward-loaded Striker missiles, then rev’ed their exhaust thrust to the maximum.

On the display, the Knanti’s engines fired. The enemy craft shot forward.

“ _Cass!_ ” warned Bex.

Cass made two split-second trajectory calculations, then pulled her trigger.

Like bullets of flame, the missiles leapt out of their tubes, tearing through the sky as if determined to split it open. Overpowered and precisely aimed, they closed the gap between human and alien craft in less than a second.

Both Knanti raiders exploded upon impact. The blast was wide, sending flames, shrapnel, and aerial shockwaves through the air.

“ _Yeah!_ ” Yanada shouted gleefully, nearly overloading the comm’s volume control.

“ _Fuck, yeah, baby!_ ” Bex whooped. Over the comm, the entire squadron cheered.

“ _Not bad,_ ” offered Tyedye. “ _Nice shooting._ ”

Cass laughed, disengaging her neural interface. “That’s how its’ done, Navy boy. Bex, scan for other hostiles?”

There was a pause as the squadron resumed patrol formation.

“ _None,_ ” reported Cass’s copilot. “ _What do you think those raiders were doing, anyway?_ ”

“Intel thinks that the Knanti Army is in cells, below,” Cass replied grimly. “We probably caught a troop transfer or a supply run.”

“ _Concur,_ ” ventured Tyedye.

“Alright, ladies,” scowled Cass, consulting her navigation computer, “we’ve still got a patrol to complete. Throttle back and resume my lead.”

***** ***** *****

The Knanti had come a year ago. From the depths of deep space, their three enormous warships had plowed into Earth’s solar system, brushing aside the pitiful defenses they found in their way. In less than three weeks, the aliens assumed a high orbit over Earth, and began destroying major cities, one-by-one.

But then, the war shifted in a way the invaders had not expected. Humans regrouped and retaliated. While Knanti attack ships proved to be faster and more agile, human weapons proved to have much greater firepower. The coordinated militaries of Earth launched devastating nuclear attacks, and soon two of the three vast Knanti motherships were destroyed. The third vessel retreated out of range, just beyond Saturn’s orbit. She continued harassing the Earth, but was inflicting less and less damage.

Mankind united. Faced with an awesome foe, all previous human rivalries were instantly forgotten. Military technology was pooled, allowing for the development of new and deadlier weapons. The greatest technological breakthrough, however, was the synaptic interface, which allowed human minds to interact directly with their computers. A human operator could absorb information at the speed of thought, then issue complex commands back to the computer just as quickly. Man and machine reacted as one, becoming far more lethal than ever imagined before.

And, while it was too early to tell, it seemed that the remaining Knanti were awed by human’s newfound deadliness. Alien attacks were becoming less frequent and almost half-hearted.

***** ***** *****

Cass eased back on the throttle. Outside her canopy, the flight deck of the USR Resistance grew steadily larger. Control activated their guidance signal, and Cass acknowledged it with a flip of a switch. Her shipboard computer synced with Hanger Ops, and soon her fighter was being guided in on automatic. The young commander exhaled and released her flight stick. Her fingers were cramped, and she absently wriggled them. Her neck was stiff.

Within another three minutes, the fighter had landed. Cass shut down her fusion core, powered off the secondary systems, and then unbuckled her restraint harness. The ground crew was already outside, fussing over the new scorch marks in her fighter’s armor. Cass slipped off her helmet and popped the canopy.

The young commander climbed from the cockpit, gingerly climbing down the gangway ladder. Yeoman Harris, a bright young man assigned to Combat Operations, was waiting for her down on the deck.

“Looks like you got knocked around a bit, Commander,” he observed, gesturing to the fighter’s minor damage.

“Yeah, well, I punched back,” Cass grunted, thrusting her helmet at the lad.

She extended her arms, indicating that Harris was to help her out of her flight pressure suit. Harris got to work, releasing clamps and disconnecting the exterior equipment. The suit was designed to massage and relax a pilot’s body, to help her concentrate when neutrally interfacing with her ship’s systems. It was incredibly comfortable while in the air, but bulky and heavy once on the ground. The yeoman worked quickly.

“ _Attention all hands,_ ” the shipwide intercom announced. “ _This is the Bridge. We are still holding a wide rotation patrol pattern. No enemy contacts at this time. Duty officers, submit inventory reports before 18:00. That is all._ ”

“There you go…” Yeoman Harris said, releasing the last of the suit buckles.

The pressure suit fell away, and Cass stepped out in the cold air. Now she was dressed only in her thin, skintight catsuit, a beige one-piece outfit that did nothing to hide her muscle-bound figure.

Harris paused, unable to help but admire the commander’s svelte body. Cass was a strikingly beautiful woman, even with a regulation military haircut and no makeup. Her cool brown eyes were large and perfectly set against her chocolate skin, making her narrow cheeks and chin seem almost deerlike. Cass had large, red lips, which seemed to naturally pucker whenever she wore a neutral expression. Her muscled figure had almost no body fat, giving her a graceful neck, compact, round shoulders, and powerful legs. The catsuit lovingly swathed her round breasts, curvy hips, and muscle-packed rear end.

“Yeoman!” snapped Cass.

Harris froze, realizing he’d been caught in the act of ogling his superior officer.

“Stow the flight suit,” Cass ordered. “Then extra KR duty for a week. Next time, don’t stare at my tits.”

“Yes ma’am,” the yeoman muttered.

Annoyed, Cass stepped back, her keen eyes sweeping over her aircraft. The Bladehawk spacefighter looked a bit battered… but nothing the maintenance boys couldn’t patch back together.

“Hey, Boss!” an eager female voice said from Cass’s left.

Cass turned. Bex, a young Irish beauty, was approaching. Cass’s copilot was also stripped down to her catsuit, but still wearing her helmet. The synaptic interface indicator light was still on.

Cass found herself grinning at Bex. The two women had known one another since flight school, and then flown some forty-eight missions together. They worked so well as a team, it was hard not to think of Bex as a sister. When the war was over and she hung up her wings for the last time, Cass hoped she and Bex would still remain close friends.

“Word just came in on the comm,” Bex reported. “Intel wants you to debrief immediately.”

“Turn in the squadron,” ordered Cass. “Then make sure all the sisters get a square meal.”

“We’ll probably be hitting the ship’s bar around 22:00,” Bex said hopefully. “You gonna join us, Boss? You should, it’ll be fun.” She switched into a pleading tone. “Pleeeeease?”

“I might show up,” replied Cass carelessly. “But don’t wait for me.”

Without another word, the beautiful commander turned and strode off the flight deck.

***** ***** *****

Manned by a joint crew of Americans, Chinese, and Europeans, USR Resistance was the Pacific-based flagship of the human fleet. It was not uncommon to see very high-ranking officers in the corridors or Intelligence agents lurking in the back of briefings. Resistance was constantly on the move, lest the Knanti zeroed in on her location, and this made shipboard life disjointed for even the most seasoned military officer.

Cass paused only long enough at her locker to slip a plain uniform jumpsuit over her skintights. Then she hurried up to the Command Deck, weaving between the hundreds of other sailors whom she passed along the way. Some looked her over with mild surprise.

At twenty-two, Cass was the youngest Squadron Commander in the fleet. She’d graduated top of her class in flight school. Then, in her first battle against the Knanti, she’d assumed command of Firetail Squadron when her CO was blown apart. She’d led the squad ever since. Some in the fleet still were resentful of her youth and rank.

The Marine sentries outside the Command Deck snapped to and saluted as Cass approached. She saluted back, then submitted for a retinal verification scan.

“The CIO’s expecting you, Commander Tarran,” one of the sentries warned Cass.

The beautiful pilot nodded, then stepped through the security airlock. The heavy door moaned shut behind her, sealing out the outside world.

In the dark room before Cass, there was a briefing table, with its computer interface alit and already displaying tactical maps. A group of senior officers sat at the table, each man looking graver than the man next to him. All of the officers wore blinking neural interfaces, the model which looked like a simple strip of metal that encircled most of one’s temple. A handsome, muscular man in a Navy uniform stood against the far wall, also wearing an interface.

Cass stiffened, saluted, then barked, “Commander Cassandra Tarran, reporting as ordered, **_sir!_** ”

“At ease,” the oldest officer grunted. This was Vice Admiral Hutchins, a wizened veteran of many wars before the Knanti came. “We’ve reviewed your flight logs, Commander. Very impressive.”

“Thank you, sir,” Cass said plainly.

The admiral engaged his neural interface, then frowned at the data scrolling before his beady eyes.

Cass took a moment to glance back at the young man standing against the wall. This officer was Tyedye, the missile officer who had monitored the aerial battle. What Tyedye’s real name was, Cass did not know, but somehow the codename fit the tall Asian youth. Tyedye was packed with muscles, with a broad chest, large arms and shoulders, and a trim waist. His handsome face was neutral, but he was watching Cass very carefully.

“Now then, Commander,” rumbled Admiral Hutchins, “its excellent that you eliminated all four enemy raiders. But reports indicate that your copilot detected Knanti ground troops?”

“Yessir,” nodded Cass. “I dispatched three of my wings to eliminate them.”

“Their flight logs indicate…” Hutchins rechecked the scrolling data. “…that 137 causalities were inflicted before the enemy went to deeper ground.”

“The Knanti are adapting,” another senior officer scowled. “The fuckers are burrowing into the earth before we can blast them.”

“That’s going to be a problem,” acknowledged Admiral Hutchins. He paused. “Commander, did your squadron pick up any trace of… Lieutenant, what was beacon signal again?”

Tyedye answered automatically, “Gamma-Alpha-Tango.”

“No sir,” Cass replied. “We never picked up a beacon signal of any kind.”

Hutchins fixed a dark stare at the young pilot. “As you’re aware, Commander, we’d dispatched General Schaper to that region. He was assigned to scout for Knanti ground forces, and signal us with classified beacon signal Gamma-Alpha-Tango. You’re **_certain_** you never picked up that signal?”

“Certain, sir. No signal detected.”

“That’s bad,” muttered Hutchins to his colleagues. “If Schaper’s been eliminated, the Knanti ground presence may be much stronger than we anticipated.”

“Sir, recommend I schedule additional robot drone patrols,” Tyedye offered.

Hutchins nodded. “Proceed, Lieutenant.” He nodded at Cass. “And good work, Commander. Both of you are dismissed.”

***** ***** *****

Cass and Tyedye stepped back through the secure airlock, moving quickly into the Resistance’s main Command Deck corridor. They joined the river of officers and enlisteds.

“Good shooting up there, flygirl,” Tyedye grinned. “’Course, my missile boys were ready to swat those fuckers.”

Cass eyed the cocky Navy officer. “Uh-huh,” she replied. “Knanti are too quick for you.”

“Maybe,” smirked Tyedye. His eyes visibly wandered down to Cass’s curvy bust.

The beautiful pilot tilted her head, just a little. Tyedye was a macho jerk, sure, but his swagger had a certain masculine charm. She knew he worked out three hours a day in the Resistance’s enhanced-gravity gym, more than double the amount of regulation time necessary. Those plate-like pectoral muscles must have been as hard as iron.

Tyedye held Cass’s gaze. His expression grew more lustful.

“Come with me, Lieutenant,” Cass said crisply.

Without waiting for an answer, the young squadron commander made her way across the hallway, arriving at the security hatch for a sensor monitoring room. Cass tapped her personal ID code into lock interface. On Resistance, officers ranked Commander and higher had access to all Restricted Areas of the ship. The door slid open.

Inside, a young ensign was alone, adjusting his satellite interface controls. The computer screens indicated he had another twenty minutes to complete a repair diagnostic. The tiny room was little more than a bank of computers and a chair.

The ensign sprang to attention as Cass stepped inside. “Ma’am,” he said stiffly, and saluted.

“Dismissed,” Cass told him.

The ensign blinked. “…ma’am? I still have another ninety minutes on my duty shift-“

“Dismissed!” barked Cass. “Or do I ask for your service number?”

The young officer saluted again. He dashed from the monitoring room, his expression white.

Cass pulled Tyedye into the tiny chamber, allowed the door to slide shut, then punched the LOCK OVERRIDE.

“Its tight in here,” grinned Tyedye, stepping closer. His subtle musk filled Cass’s nostrils.

“Shuddap,” Cass snarled, moving her slender hands to Tyedye’s great chest. She gripped the two sides of his uniform’s button-down shirt, then tore it open in a single, savage gesture. Tyedye was not wearing an undershirt. His chest muscles were like plates of armor, strong and firm.

“Yeeeeeah…” the bulky man leered, his own hands rising to grab the clasp zipper on the front of Cass’s uniform.

“Whoa, whoa, not yet,” Cass murmured, gently pushing aside Tyedye’s eager hands. “Let’s let the lady drive this time, eh?” She then peeled the shirt off Tyedye’s enormous shoulders, admiring their definition in the harsh electrical light. “Mmm. Okay, pants off, sailor boy.”

“What, you’re not gonna show me some skin first?” Tyedye teased, pushing his mouth close to Cass’s lips. He wanted to kiss her.

“I outrank you, Lieutenant,” replied Cass, enjoying the moment. “Now: Pants off.” She arched a playful eyebrow. ”Or do I ask for your service number?”

“Yes, ma’am,” breathed Tyedye. He unzipped his fly, then pushed his trousers and underwear to the deck. A quick minute later, and he had stepped out of his boots. He was completely naked. His toned body looked godlike, powerful and brutish.

“Yeah, very niiiice…” Cass murmured appreciatively, and she meant it. She ran her fingertips over all those muscles, enjoying how firm they were. Her playful hands came to rest on Tyedye’s rigid cock, which was standing at strict attention.

“Mmmm…” smiled the female Commander. She wet her fingertips, then began to play with the man’s tip.

Tyedye closed his eyes slowly. “Yeeeeeeeah… Fuck, baby…”

“Shut up,” Cass reminded him softly. “Now, strip me naked. That’s an order.”

Without a word, Tyedye’s thick fingers rose to Cass’s zipper clasp. With a soft click, he released the connector. As he pushed the uniform off Cass’s small shoulders, she stepped forward, raising her mouth to his. The two officers kissed gently.

As her uniform fluttered to the deck and she stood only in her skintight catsuit, Cass felt Tyedye’s body pressed against her. The man was a wall of toned, ironlike flesh. His cock pressed against her, insistent. It excited her.

“Mmmm…” Cass sighed, allowing the kiss to grow deeper. Tyedye’s tongue reached into her mouth, and she smiled a little as their teeth clinked against one another’s. The beefy lieutenant’s hands swarmed down her back, grabbing both of her buttocks.

It was growing hot in the cramped little monitor room. Cass felt beads of sweat rising up on her back. Tyedye’s chest was beginning to shine from his own perspiration. His musk grew stronger.

Cass leaned her head back, allowing Tyedye’s lips to fondle her neck. “Fuck, yeah…” she moaned as her eyes closed.

She was becoming wet, so wet. The catsuit permitted pilots to wear light underwear. But Cass found that panties disrupted the body-relaxing properties of the flight suit, and so she always opted to fly commando. Secretly, it amused the young pilot, who knew this would no doubt shock the military designers.

But now, with her arousal growing under Tyedye’s influence, Cass realized she was in danger of soaking her catsuit. “I said, strip me naked, Lieutenant,” she muttered, placing both of her hands on Tyedye’s strong, round shoulders. “Do it.”

The lieutenant had no idea how to remove the skin-fitting bodysock. There was no latch, no zipper, no clasp of any kind. The man’s fingers helplessly wandered about Cass’s body.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” Cass grinned. “Its formfit, get it?”

She pulled down the catsuit from the neckline, and the weblike fabric stretched without tearing. Cass’s full breasts popped out as she lowered the one-piece garment downward.

Understanding, Tyedye eagerly grabbed the suit. He dropped to one knee as he lovingly peeled it from Cass’s trim body. In the tight confines of the monitoring room, this meant his face was almost pressed against Cass’s tight belly as he worked. Cass raised her left foot, then her right, to allow her lover to pull the catsuit off over her toes. Her duty shoes slipped off and fell to the floor.

Now she was naked, too. Cass sighed contentedly, enjoying the feel of the hot air on her sweaty skin.

Tyedye gripped her left calf and guided it upward.

Cass was surprised. “What’re you…?”

With a mischievous look, the lieutenant planted her foot up on the control panel, just next to the computer interface. Then he arched his neck, and carefully nudged his mouth into Cass’s crotch. His lips attached and his tongue touched her clit…

“Oh, fucking God!” Cass cried out as sensation overwhelmed her. She grabbed the walls for balance, as her knees suddenly felt weak. Her eyes fluttered closed.

Tyedye’s strong hands gripped her inner thighs as he licked harder. Cass’s vagina was fully alive now, and the scent of her arousal drove him mad. The young man’s jaw worked hard as he hungrily slurped and probed. Cass’s juices swarmed down over his mouth.

“Oh fuuuuuuuuuuuuck,” moaned Cass. Her breathing accelerated. He orgasm was building fast. She arched her back and clawed at the walls. Without meaning to, her toes on the control panel stabbed a few buttons, randomly ordering scan cycles for the next duty shift. The computer beeped softly.

Tyedye continued his service until Cass could hold out no longer. “Oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck,” she cursed as her hips trembled and her genitals burst into pleasure. She was losing control. Her orgasm was powerful and all-consuming. “Oh FUCK!!!”

She slapped the walls furiously, a she-beast overcome by her body’s own passion.

When she could take any more, Cass grabbed Tyedye’s head and shoved him away. She collapsed against the bulkhead. She was breathing hard, with sweat on her forehead and chest. The two lovers locked gazes.

“Now…” Cass panted with a smile, “…fuck me. **_Hard._** ”

And with that, Tyedye was upon her. The naked man was positively savage, grabbing Cass and shoving her against the smooth bulkhead. Cass gasped in surprise and pleasure.

She was pinned against the wall, and she loved it. Tyedye’s hands squeezed her breasts, then hooked under her armpits. With delight, he hefted her upwards, just a half-meter, but enough to thrust his cock underneath her.

Cass understood. She angled her hips, sensing where Tyedye’s swollen tip must be. Working quickly, the two naked officers aligned with one another. Then Cass lowered herself onto Tyedye’s thick shaft.

“Oh, fuck!” Tyedye muttered, his expression rapturous.

“Pump me, Navy Boy,” moaned Cass.

And Tyedye put his hips into action. He thrust into Cass hard, as hard as he could. The young woman threw her arms about his neck and clawed his back in pleasure as she bounced. The pleasure riding through her body was indescribable. Yet she wanted more.

In the modern military, all officers were medically sterilized as a part of their service. The war with the Knanti was expected to be a lifetime commitment, which eliminated the possibility of ever having a family. Besides, a great deal of military equipment used modest radiation shielding. Sterilization was considered a necessary way to eliminate unnecessary medical complications. Let the civilians repopulate the Earth.

So Cass and Tyedye furiously rode one another with abandon. Cass hoped her lover came within her, and shot out massive amount of sperm. He would experience a titanic orgasm. He would light up, and then remember this sex for the rest of his life. She wanted his cock to explode within her.

“Yeah,” Cass grunted, bouncing harder. “You feel my wet pussy, baby? Fuck me harder. Fuck me so hard, stud, and you can fucking plow me any time you fucking want, yeah…”

“Unngghh!” cried Tyedye, smacking the wall with his palm, hard. His expression contorted, and Cass felt a change in his brutal rhythm. Her vagina filled with a warm, gooey wetness. It felt awesome.

“Fuck yeah, sailor boy,” Cass half-grinned. “Fuck yeeeee… Oh… Oh…! Ohhhhhhhhhhhh **_FUCK!!!_** ”

And then she came too.

***** ***** *****


	2. The Calm Before Battle

“Still nothing?” Cass asked, looking out toward the horizon. Outside her canopy, the sky was clear blue.

Bex didn’t answer right away. “ _…nothing Boss,_ ” she finally replied over the intercom. “ _But they’re out there._ ”

Cass frowned, but didn’t reply. She glanced at her local scanner. Her squadron was flying with her, holding a wide formation. Nothing else appeared.

The worst kind of patrol, Cass had decided, was recon patrol. You climbed into your pressure suit, and then into your cockpit, and then what? You spent twelve hours in the air, wandering over scorched earth, running endless scans. One of two things would happen: Either you found nothing, which was tedious, or you encountered the enemy, who would try like Hell to kill you. Recon patrol was either extreme boredom or extreme stress. No in-between.

Cass pushed her resentments from her mind, and forced herself to relax. Her synaptic interface came alive, feeding her data. She should see the complete telemetry information for every wing in her squad. Each spacefighter was operating in top condition. All indicators were green.

The MESSAGE indicator on Cass’s neural interface came on. She frowned slightly. In-flight communiques could potentially be intercepted and decrypted by the enemy. Command would never issue a bulletin unless something urgent was taking place. She keyed in her access code, then waited.

The message was brief:

**_\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------_ **

**_TIMESTAMP:: 2219-10-18.07:39.2098_ **

**_DECRYPT SIGNATURE:: a39e48ba4f81d30ca3_ **

**_FROM:: Strategic Defense Command_ **

**_ATTN:: ALL FORCES: CommMON reports that the final Knanti mothership has altered course. After maintaining a standard distance of 1.569 million km from Earth, mothership is reapproaching our planet at estimated 43.5 KMPH. Estimated ETA 36 hours. Enemy’s intentions unknown. Enemy’s strategic objective unknown. All planetary defenses are on HIGH ALERT until further notice._ **

**_Stay vigilant._ **

**_\-- Vc Adm Hutchins, DHS, CIO, USR Resistance_ **

**_\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------_ **

Cass let out a long exhale. So. This vicious war was about to much more savage.

The young commander considered activating her comm controls. All of her pilots, she knew, had just absorbed the admiral’s message. No doubt they were feeling somber and afraid. A word or two from their flight leader might-

“ _I’ve got ground movement!_ ” Bex said sharply. “ _Seventeen clicks, bearing 25-by-6. Multiple signals!_ ”

“Send me the full telemetry,” ordered Cass.

“ _On it,_ ” Bex relied.

Immediately, the young commander’s neural feed filled with a digital map. In precise 3D scale, Cass could see her squadron, the devastated Californian countryside beneath them, and then… to the distant east… multiple green dots populating on the ground. The computer image enhanced and added detail.

“ _Looks like… I dunno, could that be a platoon?_ ” Yanada wondered over the comm. “ _They’re in a weird formation._ ”

“ _I’m detecting nuclear signatures,_ ” warned Bex. “ _They’re armed to the teeth._ ”

Cass studied the map, and made a quick decision. “Squad, form up tight on me. We’re gonna go high, then drop-bomb them from straight above.”

“ _Is that wise, Boss?_ ” Bex asked. “ _They might not spot us if we come in low-_ “

“They’ve already spotted us,” Cass said grimly. “That’s why they’re adopting a defensive position. So we hit ‘em like fuckin’ God Almighty from Above. Arm quadbombs. Set impact detonators for maximum. On me, we climb on T-minus five in…” She mentally accessed her flight chronometer. “…mark!”

“ _Sync’ed,_ ” acknowledged her pilots, one-by-one.

Cass’s computer-enhanced thoughts flew into a whirlwind of calculations. When she was satisfied with the attack plan, she transmitted the details to her sisters, and then committed her own computers. Four second remaining.

This was it. The heart-pounding calm before battle.

To settle her thoughts, Cass allowed her mind to wander, just briefly. For a fleeting instant, she recalled her hands upon Tyedye’s hardened chest… his full cock… his sweaty body thrusting up into hers… the delight of orgasm… Cass smiled, lingering in the memory.

Maybe it was the stress of the war, but Cass had found she’d been having a lot of sex recently. Before Tyedye, she’d shagged Ensign Wicker from Combat Ops, and before him, Lieutenant Baker. And before Baker, that hottie chef in the pilots’ mess hall. Mmm, **_that guy_** had this great technique with his dick, where he could-

The flight computer pinged. The countdown was up. It was Go Time. Cass snapped back into the moment.

The young Commander felt throttle engage, obeying her programming. Her spacefighter kicked into high speed, turning straight upward in a graceful arc. Even within her pressurized cockpit and flight suit, Cass felt the massive G-forces pull at her body. She grunted in determination.

The armored craft shot higher, engines roaring. From the corner of her eye, Cass could see flames lick her hull as the atmosphere did its best to incinerate her. When she got back to base, this ship would need another coat of poliarmor paint.

“Bex?” Cass grunted.

Understanding what her commander wanted to know, Bex immediately responded, “ _Enemy hasn’t shifted position. They’re staying put._ ”

“Stupid assholes,” grunted Cass, already accessing her targeting controls.

The Bladehawk increased speed, and then the computer started a second countdown. With the cool patience of an expert, Cass took the flight stick, waiting. She kept a sharp eye on all system indicators, yet kept the countdown framed in the center of her mind. Her spacefighter began to shake violently.

Cass glanced at the Nav Coordinates. She was now directly over the enemy.

3… 2… Cass laid a hand on the throttle, permitting herself one last, cleansing, controlled breath.

1.

The computer released control.

In a sharp movement, Cass grabbed the throttle while shoving the flight stick down, **_hard_**. The Bladehawk swooped and nosedived at nearly eleven times the speed of sound, but not before scraping Earth’s upper atmosphere and the very boundaries of space. Cass kicked in the thrusters at just the right moment, and the mighty craft rocketed straight downward. The trajectory was **_perfect_**.

“Form up tight,” the Commander instructed.

As one, diving Firetail Squadron gathered about their leader, less than a hundred meters between each aircraft. Every one of Cass’s pilots were top aces, and they had executed this maneuver just as flawlessly as she. Now the whole squadron screamed down through the sky at truly frightening speeds.

When the squadron fired their weapons, their bombs would literally be traveling faster than any known sensor beam, manmade or alien. The enemy would be blown to atoms before they could detect the weapons signature.

The ground grew at a fantastic rate. Cass switched on her synaptic targeting scope, pleased that the red circles were neatly falling over the alien green dots. The large numbers on her HUD display were rapidly zooming to zero.

“ _Locked on,_ ” Yanada said in Cass’s ear. All the other pilots indicated the same.

“Hold…!” ordered Cass, her concentration riveted on the display. “Hold…!”

Suddenly, every last green dot vanished completely. Only bare earth stared back at the spacefighters.

Bex had detected faked sensor readings!

With horror, Cass realized what had happened. “ ** _It’s a trap!!!_** ” she shouted at her wingsisters. “ ** _Break off!!! EVADE, EVADE, EVADE!!!_** ”

She was too late. From the north and south, the enemy plasma fire roared in.

Every alarm on Cass’s dashboard was screaming at her. Praying that the Firetails were already scrambling, Cass threw her stick to the starboard and kicked in the maneuvering thrusters. Her stomach flopped.

Her Bladehawk groaned as Cass threw her ship into a series of loops and sharp banks. Outside her canopy, the sky was alight with plasma fire and raw explosions. Bex was yelling coordinates in her ear, but Cass hadn’t the time to absorb her copilot’s warnings.

For an instant, Cass saw one of her wingmen – she couldn’t tell which – burst into a red explosion as her fusion core was ruptured.

Cursing and struggling with the controls, Cass threw her own fighter into a steep dive. She ignored Bex’s alarmed cries over the comm.

The Bladehawk shook like it was being ripped apart. Cass yanked the throttle back and twisted the stick.

Her ship nearly bounced off the mountainous terrain below. There was a screech as the sheer air resistance nearly became too much. These spacefighters were not designed to do Mach 7 only a hundred meters from the ground.

“ _Jesus, Boss!_ ” yelled Bex.

The enemy fire was still tracking them. Cass gritted her teeth, throwing her ship to the east, where-

The Bladehawk kicked like a stung bronco. There was an ear-splitting roar. The dashboard before Cass burst into sparks as her canopy shattered into crystal dust. As the ship twisted into a death-loop, Cass knew: she’d been hit.

It was too late to save the ship. Only one thing left to do. Cass crossed her arms across her chest and ducked her head. As her seat was ejected into the sky, she felt her insides wrench and nearly turn inside out.

The young commander wanted to screw her eyes tightly shut and curl up into a ball. But she forced herself to watch as her spacefighter barreled away, belching flame, smoke, and charred metal. The craft rolled over, losing altitude. Then it plunged to the rocky earth, and exploded. The force of the impact shook the sky itself.

***** ***** *****

Hanging in the air, Cass twisted about. Her antigrav suspenders were kicking in. She could see for a few kilometers.

High above her, her squadron was still scrambling, desperate to dodge the enemy’s fire. The plasma bolts were everywhere, lighting up the sky almost like an electric net. As Cass watched, one of her sisters were struck by a series of bolts and completely disappeared into a blossom of fire. No pilots ejected to safety.

Angry, Cass tore off the now-useless display visor of her helmet. A hot wind breathed in her face.

The ground was rising up to meet her, fast.

“ _Boss!_ ” a static-plagued voice sounded in her ear.

“Bex!” Cass cried. “Where are you?”

“ _Point one clicks to your six!_ ” the copilot replied. She sounded shaken. “ _You’re coming down too fast, airbrake! You’ll-_ ”

“I’ll be fine,” snapped Cass. “Rendezvous with me in sixty.” She cut the comm channel. Then she reached for her repulsor controls.

***** ***** *****

By the time Cass and Bex linked up on the ground, the aerial battle was over. Cass had watched three of her pilots escape, but two others destroyed. What had happened to the remainder, she could not say.

Bex was trembling from head to toe. She had a nasty cut across one of her lovely cheeks, and she walked with a slight limp. “Jesus, I may have twisted my ankle on landing,” she said apologetically. “You hafta leave me, Boss.”

“Fuck that,” growled Cass.

The two military women threw off their harnesses, but remained in their flightsuits and helmets. The suits were hot and offered minimal armor, but they dared not shed them now. Both women drew their sidearms as Bex consulted her forearm-mounted scanner.

“Oh fuck,” the copilot said in fear. “Boss, there’s over twenty lifesigns, three clicks off and closing. Moving fast.”

“They saw us come down,” Cass said grimly.

No human had even seen a Knanti. Intelligence had constructed their probable likeness from scans of Knanti spacecraft, but these were speculative images at best. And the scientists had proposed differing likenesses of the enemy. All everyone seemed to agree upon was that the Knanti must be tall, with powerful, grasshopper-like legs, and a heavy bone structure. And they were carnivores.

“ETA?” Cass asked.

Bex squinted. In that moment, her scanner blinked and went dead.

“Oh, fuck,” the copilot hissed. “They remote-shorted my scanner.” She looked up at her commander. “They’ll be here any second.”

Cass held her breath. In the distance, she could hear pounding feet, scrambling over rock and dirt.

In desperate situations, pilots were ordered to commit suicide rather than fall into enemy hands. No-one knew what the Knanti could do to prisoners. But Military Intelligence strongly suggested the experience would not be relaxing.

Cass and Bex exchanged a hard look. A wealth of communication passed between them. Both women knew what the other was thinking.

With determination, Cass cocked her pistol, then pointed it at Bex’s forehead.

At that moment, a metallic disk flew through the air, dropping a few feet from the two military women. Distracted, Cass blinked.

Bex shouted, “Boss!”

The disk emitted a bright flash.

Suddenly, the world was spinning. Nauseous, Cass felt her body turn into a wet noodle. She collapsed to the ground, dazed. Her senses were fading, fast.

And then the world turned to black.

***** ***** *****


	3. Opportunities Multiply

After perhaps an eternity, Cass heard distant murmuring. She was dimly aware of pain. Her muscles felt like they were coated in lead.

The young commander reflexively tried to grunt, but her mouth and throat were completely dry. Her few thoughts swam about lazily, bumping into one another inside her numbed skull.

Gradually, awareness of her arms and legs returned. Cass felt hot, and there was a dusty, stickiness on her skin. She coughed, loudly.

Immediately, the strange murmurings ceased.

With difficulty, Cass pried her eyes open. It was dark all about her, with dim red lights illuminating what looked like… rock? She wasn’t certain. The young woman realized that she was sitting in a chair. Every part of her body ached.

She wanted to rub her nose. The instant she tried to lift her hand, Cass was rewarded by a biting sensation in her wrist. Her arm refused to move!

She squinted downward. Strong cords were bound around her arms, legs, and chest. She was tied into the chair. Movement was impossible.

A harsh, white light clicked on, blinding the young Commander. She cried out reflectively, closing her eyes too late.

Something grabbed her by the shoulders, and Cass felt her chair swivel around. Now the blinding light was directly before her. The beam’s intensity diminished.

The only thing she could hear was the faint drip of water… and the strange breathing of multiple creatures. The breathing had an odd _hissssss…PAH! hissssss…PAH! hissssss…PAH!_ sound to it, mechanical and regular.

Anger and fear wrestled within Cass. She struggled furiously against her bonds. “Fuck you!” she croaked at her captors. “You fucking hear me? Fuck you!!!”

A figure stepped before the light. Cass blinked in shock. The being was undoubtably… a man.

The man stood just short of two meters tall, broad-shouldered and barrel-chested. It was hard to be sure, but he seemed to wear a dirt-covered Infantry uniform, with heavy boots, a weapons belt, and a breathing mask over his face. Two blank camera eyes gazed at Cass.

“…the fuck?” spat Cass.

The man pulled off his mask. His face was beaten and hard, as if he’d spent all his life in the hot sun. Cass guessed him to be perhaps fifty years old… but who knew?

“Commander Cassandra Tarran,” the man rumbled, eyeing Cass. He tossed aside his mask. “Service number GA-3942-4827-CTN. Commander, Firetail Squadron, USR Resistance, Captain Mark Reying, commanding officer. Well.” His voice hardened. “You and your copilot were the only two wing pilots we could capture, Commander. I was hoping our little pilot-trap would net more. Guess you’ll have to do.”

Cass glared at him, seething.

The man snapped his fingers once. A second man appeared from behind the light, younger and thinner. He wore a breathing mask. He cautiously approached Cass, extending a metallic bottle with a straw toward her lips.

Angry, Cass shrank back.

“Its just water, Commander,” the older man intoned, folding his arms behind his back in a classic At-Ease posture.

“You’re military,” Cass observed.

“Damned right. Now: Drink.”

Suspicious, Cass glared at the straw.

“We want you healthy, Commander,” the officer said. “Drink.”

 _Fuck it,_ Cass thought. She didn’t know what was going on. But some water sounded heavenly.

She accepted the straw and sucked. The water was cool and refreshing and delicious. After a first hesitant sip, Cass gulped down as much as she could.

“Very good,” the officer said mildly. He gestured, and the younger soldier departed.

Cass licked her lips, trying to focus her thoughts. “Who the fuck are you?” she demanded.

“Major General Lindsey Schaper, ma’am,” the officer said, crisp pride in his voice. “Strategic Defense Infantry, Twenty-Seventh Corps. Service number GA-9370-0036-XTS.”

Schaper?

“I’ve heard of you,” Cass snarled, sitting upright. “Admiral Hutchins is looking for you!” Growing angry once again, she demanded, “Why haven’t you reported in, General? Why are you shooting down our own pilots? And where are the Knanti ground troops?”

Schaper didn’t reply. He rubbed his jaw, then gestured. The bright light dimmed further.

Now Cass could see her surroundings. She was in what appeared to be a cave, cut from the hard rock by laser torches. On the opposite side of the cavern, there were a group of perhaps eight men, all watching her carefully, all in infantry uniforms, all using breathing masks. Four of them clutched phase rifles. To the side, there was a table loaded with dusty field computers. A Staff Sergeant with a comm pack was fussing over their controls.

Cass looked down. She’d been stripped down to her catsuit. There was a long gash in the fabric, right over her leg; apparently these men had torn off her exterior flight suit in a hurry.

“You remember your assigned Sun Tzu readings from the Academy?” Schaper asked Cass, folding his arms over his great chest. “No?”

Cass remained silent, glaring back.

“I keep thinking of one Sun Tzu quote in particular,” the General remarked. “ _Opportunities multiply as they are seized._ True then, true today. You are the first opportunity I’ve seized in our new campaign.”

“Fuck off, **_sir_** ,” Cass spat.

Schaper shrugged. “Bring the other one,” he ordered his men. Two soldiers nodded, and moved off into a wide corridor.

“Now, tell me, Commander,” Schaper scowled. “What has Command told you about Knanti tactics lately?”

“What is this?” demanded Cass. “Release me, goddamnit!”

“I can’t do that, yet,” Schaper said firmly. “Answer the question.”

From the corridor, Cass could hear approaching bootsteps. The two soldiers were returning, towing something behind them with an antigrav lift.

As they approached, Cass’s heart leapt. The soldiers were pulling Bex into the cavern! Like Cass, Bex was stripped down to her catsuit, and was firmly tied into a heavy metal chair. A silencing gag was fitted over her mouth. Her eyes were wide and frightened.

“Fuckers!” Cass swore, struggling against her bonds even harder. “Bex!”

“Relax, Commander,” implored Schaper. “I’m truly sorry for the discomfort. But its necessary for the safety of my men.”

The two soldiers placed Bex perhaps a meter from Cass’s right. They glanced at the general, who nodded once. The taller soldier removed Bex’s gag. Then both men rejoined their brothers.

“Bex! You okay?” Cass wanted to know.

“Great, Boss,” replied Bex, sounding entirely unconvincing.

“You’re both gonna get out of here,” Schaper assured the two women. “But first, Commander Tarran…” And now his voice hardened. “…what has Command told you about the Knanti tactics?”

Cass thought quickly, wishing she had access to her synaptic interface. There seemed to be only one of two possibilities here:

First, Schaper had gone mad. It happened. Field commanders, aware of the weight of the world on their shoulders, sometimes snapped under the pressure. They went rogue. Most engaged on a pressure-fueled shooting rampage, and had to be put down savagely. But a tiny handful of madmen had actively mutinied against Command. It was possible that Schaper was insane, and a traitor.

But it was also possible that everything here was legit. Schaper’s unit, Cass recalled, was under Admiral Hutchins, and that meant Schaper was in Intel officer. Sometimes Intel guys ran bizarre counterintelligence ops, hunting for spies among the ranks. Was it remotely possible this was such a sting?

If Schaper was crazy, Cass and Bex were likely dead. If he was under orders, they had nothing to fear. There was no way to know what was the reality here.

But at least, Cass had not fallen into the hands of the Knanti. That was a relief.

Eyeing the wretched Bex, Cass made a quick decision. She’d cooperate, but only as long as she didn’t betray her direct orders.

“Fine,” the beautiful pilot said in a clipped voice. “Knanti tactics have been random and ineffective. Command thinks they may have a shortage of attack ships. We haven’t had a major assault for over two months now.”

Schaper threw a worried look at the sergeant by the field computers. “What’s your sense?” the general asked Cass. “What game are the Knanti playing?”

“I wouldn’t know,” she replied levelly. “I’m a sky jockey.”

When Schaper didn’t say anything, Cass shrugged and added, “Knanti raids are infrequent and pointless. They deposit ground troops here in California, but their soldiers don’t do anything. They go into hiding, and we shoot up their dropships. Its like the fight has gone out of the bastards.”

“There are no Knanti ground troops,” Schaper said firmly.

Cass scowled. “The fuck you say? There are. My squadron has scanned over two thousand lifesigns over the last three months alone. They’re here.”

“They’re not,” returned Schaper. “The Knanti are quantum energy beings. They don’t register as lifesigns.”

Cass glared. “How could you possibly fucking know that?”

The older officer lowered his head slightly, looking weary. “My mission,” he said, “was to go into the field and seek out the Knanti ground forces that Command was certain had landed. We worked with SatComm for almost a full month, chasing down every coordinate where Command believed there was a landing. Each time, nothing. Not so much as a pebble out of place when we arrived on the supposed landing sites.

“Then, in our twenty-seventh operational day, our scanners spotted a Knanti recon ship, up in high orbit. My missile guys are among the best in the service; they brought it down with one, clean shot. Better yet, the craft soft-landed just a few clicks from our position. We were able to capture it intact.”

Cass listened, amazed. No human force had ever captured a Knanti vessel. At best, human salvage teams had been able to recovered charred wreckage when inspecting alien crash sites.

“Before enemy raiders blasted our prize into radioactive dust,” said Schaper, “we were able to crack open the cockpit. We saw the Knanti pilot itself. A big, blue creature of phased energy. Ugly, too. The moment it was exposed to our atmosphere, the thing screamed and disintegrated. They can’t live in our environment, not even in life-suits.

“But we were able to rip out their computer core, intact. The Knanti are a unified, hierarchical society, and they don’t use encryption. Every drone trusts the Higher Leaders. All information is widely shared, because there is no independent thought, except at the top.”

“You guys read the Knanti computer?” Bex exclaimed, deep skepticism in her voice. “On the first go?”

“Not immediately, no,” the Staff Sergeant said, stepping forward.

“This here is Sergeant Ribbos,” Schaper indicated. “Smartest field tech in Defense.”

Ribbos nodded at the compliment. “Human computers are built on binary number technology, ones or zeroes,” he explained. “The Knanti use quantum-based mathematics, where you can’t know the value of any number outside of a certain probability. It took us a few days to guess the frequency distribution. But once we did, we were able to build a crude interface program.”

“So we can basically ask the Knanti computer simple questions,” Schaper scowled. “Sometimes, we get the answer. Usually not.”

“…huh,” was all Bex said.

“Jesus Christ,” Cass almost exploded. “If you assholes cracked a Knanti computer, why the fuck didn’t you get it back to Command?”

“Oh, you think I didn’t goddamn try?!?” Schaper shot back, angry. “ ** _Of course_** we fucking tried to contact Command!”

The big man looked away.

“So what the hell happened?” demanded Cass.

“There was a reason we brought down the scout ship so easy,” Schaper growled. “It wasn’t watching the ground. It was scanning human comm frequencies. We’re not sure, but it looks like the Knanti built up a complex database model of all our communications technology. They’re observant bastards.”

“Holy shit,” said Bex, taken aback.

“Lemme me ask you something,” Schaper loomed, pointing a finger at Cass. “Think back to the last time you engaged Knanti raiders, like, when you actually shot at Knanti warships in the air. Did you experience a comm disruption in the beginning of the battle?”

Cass recoiled in surprise. Instinctively, she didn’t want to answer.

“Tell me,” ordered the general. “Tell me, or we’ll put the truth serum to you. I have to know.”

“There was a disruption,” Bex admitted. “The aliens did a probe of our comm frequencies.”

“But we re-encrypted after a few seconds,” said Cass defensively.

Schaper’s face grew long. “No, no you didn’t,” he told her grimly. “They wanted you to think that. The Knanti have broken all our encryption ciphers. They were in control of your comms.”

“Bullshit,” snorted Cass.

“Even before their motherships got here,” Schaper informed her, “Knanti scouts reached the Earth. They kidnapped civilians, put them in laboratories. Learned how to control the human mind. They have a technology that slowly implants suggestions and compulsions into a person’s subconscious. After enough exposure, a human loses their free will. They become an obedient slave of their Knanti masters.”

Cass stared at her captor. “No,” she declared. “You’re talking about… what, hypnosis?”

Schaper shrugged. “Partly,” he admitted. “I guess. I don’t know. I don’t really understand this shit. But the Knanti have extremely detailed psychological information about us.”

“Here’s how the Knanti hypnotism works, at least as far as we understand,” Sergeant Ribbos ventured. “The Knanti lure our military forces into a shooting match. Early on, they take control of our guys’ comm systems. They access our synaptic interfaces. Then, they spend the battle downloading subliminal commands into the minds of their victims. After the latest batch of commands are implanted, the aliens allow themselves to be destroyed, thus giving the humans a false sense of victory.”

“I’ve read about brainwashing and hypnotism,” Bex retorted. “Even subjects under a deep hypnotic trance do not retain suggestions that are against their will, not long-term.”

“Unless,” the sergeant countered, “the subject’s brain chemistry increases dopamine and epinephrine **_shortly after_** the Knanti suggestions were implanted. Then the subliminal programming is permanently wired into a person’s subconscious.”

“Yeah, well, I wasn’t taking anything that would alter my brain chemistry after I flew a mission,” Cass growled.

Ribbos hesitated, looking uncomfortable.

“Tell her,” Schaper ordered.

“There’s only one natural way to increase dopamine and epinephrine in the brain,” the sergeant muttered. “And that’s to have an orgasm.”

“What?” deadpanned Cass.

“Pay attention, Commander,” Schaper said gruffly. “While in battle, the enemy takes control of your synaptic interface. They download hypnotic commands into your mind. Then, to ensure those commands become permanent, they sprinkle in some suggestions for you to seek out someone to fuck, once you return to base. You have sex, you climax, and the aliens gain a beachhead within your mind.”

“Hold on,” Sergeant Ribbos interjected. “We know that the Knanti technique can’t be done in one transfer. The first time they access your mind, they install their program, but it has little strength. But each subsequent encounter makes the program a little stronger. After several missions… the power of the hypnotic compulsions becomes too great for the victim to resist.”

“So tell me, Commander,” General Schaper intoned, “how many times did you find yourself having sex, immediately after a mission?”

“ ** _…Fuck you!_** ” barked Cass, appalled.

But Bex looked chagrined. “Oh shit…” she muttered. “Boss, the Firetails have been doing a lot of boning of late. I have. Shit, just after our last mission, I hooked up with Ensign DeSoto at the ship’s bar! We did it in his barracks.” She stared at Cass. “Jesus, **_the entire squadron_** got laid that night. They were bragging about it at breakfast.” She grimaced in anger.

“Yeah,” said Schaper grimly. “You ladies have been having a lot of casual sex over the last month, right? And always after a mission?”

That much was true. Cass couldn’t deny it.

“What the fuck are you saying?” Cass retorted, angry. “That I’m brainwashed to be a sleeper agent for the fucking Knanti?”

“Probably,” Sergeant Ribbos told her. “We have no way to know how much exposure you’ve gotten. It could be that the Knanti’s mind control program is completely downloaded into your subconscious. At a key stimuli, it would activate, and then you would mindlessly carry out the enemy’s instructions.”

“You guys,” Cass growled, “are batshit crazy.”

“We know about the Knanti plot to hypnotize our spacefighter pilots,” Schaper said, looking weary. “But the aliens must have ways to get into the minds of other military units. Anyone who uses a synaptic interface is vulnerable, if you think about it. The Knanti must control some officers in Command. You want proof?”

“Yeah,” demanded the female commander.

“Exactly one day after we accessed the Knanti computer core,” snarled Schaper, “our own aircraft appeared and started bombing us. Our own aircraft! I lost nearly two hundred men in the first run. And when I comm’ed Command for evac, I lost another two hundred. Command sent fightercraft instead of transports. They tried to kill us.”

“The enemy has planted the suggestion that there Knanti ground troops here in California,” Ribbos interjected gently. “But there’s only us Infantry boys here. Your squadron have been hunting us. Not them.”

For reasons she couldn’t understand, Cass was filled with rage at these words. “Fuck you!” she cried. “Fuck both of you!”

Bex’s face twisted in anger, too. “You sonofabitches…!” she hissed.

“Ah, you see?” Ribbos said to the general. “Both women are exhibiting fury when confronted with the truth. That’s a defensive mechanism of the Knanti conditioning. Denial and anger.”

“Fuck you!” screamed Cass. Raw hatred gripped her. Helpless, she struggled against her bonds. “Fuck both of you assholes!!!”

General Schaper held Ribbos in his gaze. “Can we work with either of these ladies?” he asked sadly. “’Cause I don’t think they’ll voluntarily help us.”

“No,” Ribbos agreed. He moved to his table, picking up a neuroscanner. Then, fiddling with the controls, he moved behind the two helpless pilots.

Cass fell the static-electricity feeling of the scanner sweeping over her braincase. She thrashed about in her chair. “FUCKERS!” she belted. “Traitors! I swear I’ll fucking kill you all!”

“Gag her,” ordered Schaper.

Two soldiers stepped forward, clamping a silencing gag onto Cass’s jaw. She tried her best to bite off a finger or two.

“Okay,” Sergeant Ribbos sighed, consulting his scanner’s readout. “The Commander here is susceptible. But the copilot… I’m afraid not.”

“Aw, shit,” glowered Schaper. “Well, at least we can use one of them.” He nodded at Bex. “Give her a neuroretro shot. That’ll erase all of her short-term memory, right?”

“Medic Otterbein can up the dosage,” Ribbos said, moving back to his computers. “The copilot here will lose a week, tops. But she will have no physical memory of being here or meeting us. Even if the enemy dissects her brain, there’ll be nothing there to reveal our existence.”

“Good,” Schaper nodded.

“Fuck you!” cried Bex, horrified. “Don’t you fucking touch me!”

“Take her to Medical,” General Schaper ordered.

The soldiers re-levitated Bex’s chair with the antigrav lift. Cass strained against her bonds with all her might, screaming in fury under her gag. Her helplessness infuriated her. As Bex was carted away, pilot and copilot shared one last anguished look.

General Schaper nodded to Sergeant Ribbos. “Set up your machine, and then get to work on Commander Tarran. We don’t have much time.”

Cass glared at the General. Raw, seething hatred boiling within her chest.

Schaper coolly met her gaze. “You’re gonna help us, Commander,” he said. “One way or another.”

***** ***** *****


	4. Counterprogramming

A sound-heavy bag was thrown over Cass’s head. She could see absolutely nothing, and her ears could only detect muffled sounds. The bag smelled horrible.

Maybe a half an hour passed. Cass could only sit and fume. She knew she should calm herself, relax, allow her subconscious to work on an escape plan. If she could trick her captors into letting down their guard, perhaps she could get to Bex and…

No. No, it was no use. Cass’s rage was unbound, and she simply couldn’t quiet her thoughts. All she wanted to do was break free, and then throttle the life from General Schaper’s body.

***** ***** *****

After more time, Cass felt a gentle hand on her arm. “We’re gonna remove the bag!” a muffled man’s voice shouted at her, sounding very far away. “Stay calm, Commander!”

The bag was torn off. Cass felt fresh, cold air on her cheeks. She squinted, although the light was dim.

The chamber had changed. General Schaper and most of the soldiers were gone, but Sergeant Ribbos and young and pretty woman in a Field Medic’s uniform stood before Cass. To Cass’s left, a number of computers and machines had been set up, and were throbbing with power. There was a large computer monitor held by a robot arm.

“Welcome back, Commander,” Sergeant Ribbos said. “I’m going to release your gag. I’d advise you to remain calm, or we’ll give you a sedative. Okay?”

Cass glared.

“Okay, then,” muttered the Sergeant. He peeled off Cass’s silencing gag.

“You’re a fucking traitor,” Cass told him immediately.

Ribbos glanced at the medic. “That’s the Knanti rage conditioning talking,” he told her. “Otterbein, you fed Commander Tarran’s psyche profile into the analysis computer?”

“Yessir,” replied the medic. She was scanning Cass with a medicomputer. “Jesus, sir, the Commander’s body is contaminated with thoranin radiation!”

“Must be from when her spacefighter exploded,” mused Ribbos. He moved to his machines, flipping switches. A colorful computer monitor lit up.

“Well, we’ve got to get her and her copilot decontaminated!” Otterbein exclaimed. “Otherwise, they’ll die in twenty-four hours!”

But Ribbos shook his head. “We don’t have the time, or the proper facility for that. She’ll have to be decomm’ed back on her ship. They’ll catch it right away, she’ll be fine.”

“I hope I irradiate you both,” hissed Cass.

Sergeant Ribbos ignored the venom. “I’m ready,” he told Otterbein. “Get her into position?”

Cass struggled, but the pretty medic moved behind her, then swiveled her chair to face the machines. Then Cass felt a cool, metal object touch the back of her head. The device wrapped around her most of her skullcase, connecting to her gently but firmly.

Cass shook her head violently, but the device clung to her with a soft force shield. It tingled slightly.

“Neurostimulator attached and online,” Otterbein reported.

“Great,” said Ribbos, still typing away into one of his computers. “Now let’s bring down our subject’s aggression levels, shall we?”

Otterbein stepped forward, tapping on a datapad. The pad beeped.

A dull, omnipresent sensation seeped into Cass’s head. Her thoughts began to slow.

“You… you fucking prick,” Cass snarled, still struggling. “You’re brainwashing me?”

“We’re going to hypnotize you, Commander,” Ribbos said casually, positioning the computer’s monitor so that it was placed directly before Cass’s eyes. “Counter-hypnotize you, actually. Using some tricks we learned from our Knanti friends. Hey, just relax, you’ll feel right at home in a moment or two.”

“Fuck you, fuck you, fuck you, fuck you!” Cass yowled.

“She’s resisting,” warned Otterbein.

“Let her try,” Ribbos replied. “Lemme see that?” He took Otterbein’s datapad and hit another button. “Okay, stimulation has begun. Let’s give her synapses a moment to calm down. When she’s sedated and agreeable, we’ll begin the hypnotism.”

“You fucking pricks!” hissed Cass, straining in vain against her bonds. “You fucking pricks!”

The sergeant and medic watched her absently, occasionally checking Otterbein’s pad for medical readouts. They made a few brief notes, but otherwise did nothing.

***** ***** *****

Over time, Cass’s rage faded. She felt oddly peaceful. There was a strange fog in her head, making it hard to think. Her sense of touch and smell seemed to fade, while her ears absorbed more detail. The room seemed to be expanding in all directions.

The young woman paused. Why was she struggling? There was a reason, but… She couldn’t recall. Her thoughts were slow and fuzzy, like she was entering a dream. She allowed herself to rest, fascinated.

Cass heard Sergeant Ribbos say, “There. Now she’s responding,”

“Jesus,” Otterbein said nervously. “Just don’t ever use this gizmo on me, okay?”

“The Knanti have already whittled down Commander Tarran’s mental defenses,” replied Ribbos. “This machine would need a lot longer to hypnotize you, Otterbein.”

“Still… ugh,” the female medic said.

The Sergeant leaned forward. “Commander Tarran? Can you hear me?”

Cass blinked. “Yes…” she said plainly.

“Commander, we’re about to hypnotize you,” Sergeant Ribbos told the sedated young woman. “You’ll feel like you’re simply going to sleep. When you wake up, you’ll remember none of this, but you’ll retain commands that will counteract your Knanti programming. Do you understand?”

“Yes,” Cass allowed.

“Good,” Ribbos commented. He touched a control on the datapad.

The computer screen lit up. “Stare deep into the hypnotizer display, Commander,” ordered Ribbos. “Listen to my instructions. Soon you’ll feel very, very wonderful.”

That seemed reasonable. Cass obeyed. Sergeant Ribbos was her friend, who only wanted the best for her no matter what happened. She was happy to be hypnotized, if so commanded.

The computer displayed multicolor swirls, dancing and swallowing one another. Cass’s gaze was instantly captured.

“Look deeper into the screen,” instructed Ribbos. “Look deeper, relax deeper, and obey. You will soon feel peaceful and happy to do all that I command you…”

As the sergeant spoke, Cass lost track of her own body. Her will seemed to be sucked into the computer monitor, transforming her into a rag doll, limp and devoid of any desires of her own. Ribbos’ powerful voice became a river of words, and she was gladly swept along…

Ribbos spoke on and on. Enjoying the relaxation bathing her, Cass sighed inwardly. She liked getting hypnotized. She stared into the computer spirals, seeing nothing else.

“And now,” the sergeant told her, “I will snap my fingers, and you will drop straight down into a deep, hypnotic sleep. You will not be able resist any of my commands. Do you understand?”

“…yes…” Cass heard her own voice whisper.

A hand appeared before her face, and thumb and forefinger clicked, exactly once.

Cass’s eyes closed. To her, it seemed like the world vanished in that moment. Suddenly, she was carelessly floating in a universe of darkness, her body nonexistent, her spirit blissful and passive.

“And now, Commander,” Ribbos’ voice said in place of her thoughts, “I am in control, and you will follow, believe, and obey all my commands without thought or resistance. You must comply with every thought I place in your mind.”

As the Staff Sergeant spoke, his every word became absolute truth for Cass. She believed Ribbos utterly, and wanted nothing but to obey his will.

“From now on,” Ribbos demanded, “you will find that the only voices in your mind which control you are mine and yours. Your Knanti masters no longer have any influence over you. From now on, your mind will reject any compulsions you may find yourself tempted to act upon. You belong to the human side, forever.”

The sergeant repeated these commands so many times that Cass lost count. She found herself utterly believing every word.

“Very good, Commander,” complemented Ribbos. “Now, listen carefully. In a little while, you will awaken, remembering nothing. For as long as you remain in these caves, you will remain docile and obedient to myself or General Schaper.

“But later, you will find yourself on the surface with your copilot. She will have memory problems. At that time, you will utterly and forever forget your time in these caves. You will be convinced that your fighter crashed during the battle, you pulled your copilot from the wreckage, and you have been waiting for rescue ever since.

“You both will return to your carrier. Somewhere on your ship, there is a master control computer which directs all the activity of the synaptic interfaces. You will have an irresistible urge to find this computer **_and destroy it._** You cannot resist this compulsion. **_You must find and destroy this computer._** ”

“Once the computer is destroyed, you will remember everything. You will be mentally free of all hypnosis. You will remember myself, General Schaper, the Knanti plot, everything. Of course, you will be able to explain to your superior officers what has happened, and why you have done what you did. You will not be fearful, for you know you are helping humankind in your actions. And you will send a rescue ship for General Schaper and his men.”

Ribbos wove his verbal tapestry carefully, seeding each of his instructions deep within Cass’s mind. Soon, the young Commander held each one of his words as a core belief.

“That’s it,” Ribbos said, sounding tired. “Well, almost it. We have to seal the instructions in.”

“You mean my making her orgasm?” Otterbein asked, disgusted. “You’re gonna fuck her?”

“I’m tempted,” Ribbos admitted.

But Otterbein was appalled. “Oh hell, no!”

“Its genuinely for the good of mankind!” protested Ribbos. “And she’s a hottie! How often does this happen?”

“No!” demanded Otterbein, stamping her foot.

“Fine, fine,” groused the Sergeant. He laid a hand on Cass’s limp shoulder. “In a moment, Commander, I will snap my fingers again. When I do, you will have the world’s biggest, most powerful orgasm. It will overwhelm you and leave you limp and breathless. As you climax, you will feel all of my commands and suggestions permanently seep into your brain. You cannot resist.”

Cass heard the sound of two fingers clicking.

Suddenly, to her amazement, the young commander felt her vagina come to life. In her mind’s eye, she saw herself naked and floating in a universe of complete darkness. She felt warm and safe.

A nude and aroused Lieutenant Tyedye was flying up out of the darkness, swimming to her. The Naval officer’s mouth was grinning. On their own, Cass’s legs parted…

…and Tyedye was at her vagina. His lips caressed her, sucking greedily at her clit.

“Ohhhh… fuck!” Cass cried out loud.

She arched her back, straining against the chair.

In her imagination, Tyedye grabbed her legs, clamping onto her and pulling her closer. His tongue was eager. Somehow, the horny little muscle was growing and expanding, both slithering over Cass’s spot with love **_and_** thrusting into her. She was being orally pleasured and fucked at the same time.

“Oh God, oh God, oh God, oh God, oh God,” gasped the Commander, her body rapidly tensing.

Tyedye showed her no mercy. The lieutenant pressed harder, coaxing her body closer and closer to a warm and delightful climax. The burly man’s skill knew no end! At one point, Cass wondered if he had multiple tongues, happily probing her with glee. She struggled… anxious to… taste…

Her orgasm came.

“ ** _YES!!!_** ” screamed Cass, her every muscle tense to the point of snapping. “ ** _YES, MOTHERFUCKING, YES! YES! YES! YESSS!!! YESSSSSSSSS, OH GOD YEAAAAAAAAAAAAH!!!_** ”

She was cumming freely, gushing, squirming, unable to stop, hanging on for dear life. The sensations sweeping over her blasted her across the universe and back.

And then…

Within her imagination, Tyedye looked up, making eye contact. His mouth was slowing down. The man’s greedy eyes winked once. _I fucking love doing that to you_ , he somehow said to Cass.

The young woman was spent. Exhausted, she sagged within the chair and deeper into her trance. Tyedye faded from her mind, and Cass felt her body and mind sink into a powerful and restful sleep.

Before she completely blacked out, Cass heard Medic Otterbein say with awe in her voice, “…on second thought, Ribbos, maybe you **_can_** use that hypno gizmo on me.”

***** ***** *****

“Boss! Boss!”

The words were distant, yet urgent. Cass moaned a little.

“Boss! You okay?”

With difficultly, Cass pried her eyes open.

Bex was leaning over her, deep concern in her green eyes. Above, the hot sun beat down from the clear blue sky. Cass could feel a hot breeze sweeping over her body.

“Unnngh,” croaked the beautiful young pilot. She struggled to sit up.

“Easy, there,” Bex said, deep relief in her voice. She helped her Commander climb to her feet. “Jesus, Boss, I thought I’d lost you!”

Cass blinked looking about. She and Bex were standing in the middle of the California wasteland, nothing but scorched rocks and earth for kilometers in all directions. Bex was in her flight suit, but somehow, Cass wore only her catsuit. There was a long gash in the suit, down her right leg.

“Fucking ‘A,” groaned Bex. “Boss, do you have any idea what the hell happened?”

Cass blinked again, and her memory flooded back to her. “Yeah. Yeah, the Firetails were on patrol. You detected a Knanti ground platoon, and we attacked. But it was an ambush. The fucking aliens shot you ‘n me down.” She looked up into the sky. “Some of the other sisters got away.”

“No,” Bex said, horrified. “But not all of them?”

“I saw that we lost at least two wings,” murmured Cass. “No survivors.”

“Oh my God,” Bex quailed, and looked like she might vomit. “I don’t remember any of this!”

Cass squinted at her copilot. “No? What’s the last thing you remember?”

Bex thought carefully. “I… uh, the last thing I remember is… Well, we were on Resistance, doing a preflight check before recon patrol.”

“Oh my God,” Cass frowned. “Bex, we took off from Resistance, and we were in the air for **_five hours_**. You may have taken a bigger bump to the head than I thought. After our fighter crashed during the battle, I pulled you from the wreckage, and we’ve been waiting for rescue ever since. Only…”

Cass looked down at herself, puzzled. “Only I don’t remember removing my flight suit. I guess I passed out. Heat exhaustion, maybe?”

“You ‘n me, we gotta get back to Resistance,” Bex said, determined. She looked about, then consulted her forearm-mounted scanner. “I’m not picking up any Knanti ground troops. You think its safe to activate the SOS beacon?”

“If you don’t, we’re dead no matter what,” Cass said grimly. “Signal the ship.”

“On it,” Bex acknowledged, and began activating her personal beacon.

***** ***** *****

The transport ship from the Resistance arrived three hours later. Cass and Bex didn’t have a signal flare on them, but thankfully the transport pilot had sharp eyes. She was able to spot the two crash survivors as they waved frantically from a protruding boulder.

Once the two pilots were aboard, the transport shot back into the air and headed west.

“Wait!” Cass yelled into the intercom. “We may have more downed Firetail pilots! We have to search! Veer back!”

“ _Negative, Commander,_ ” the pilot told her. “ _You and your copilot are all that were left behind. Besides, we’ve got less than a forty-three minute window to reach Resistance._”

“Why?”

“ _Why? Oh, shit, you’ve been off-channel most of today. The Knanti mothership, that’s why! She’s still plowing towards Earth at top speed. The new Mars orbital guns couldn’t even slow her down. Resistance is positioning to defend Tac Base’s airspace._” The pilot’s voice sounded stressed.

“Fuck me…!” moaned Bex.

“What’s the Knanti ETA?” Cass wanted to know.

“ _Last I heard,_ ” the pilot answered, “ _less than seven hours. You two ladies strap yourselves in, will ya? I’m about to hit the boosters._ ”

***** ***** *****

The Resistance was cruising at absolute top speed. On normal missions, the great ship might approach 25 knots, 28 knots if the captain ordered the emergency reactors brought online. Now, Resistance was plowing through the Pacific at **_nearly 35 knots_** , causing the waves to break and froth across her massive bow. Cass was dumbfounded to see the great ship move so quickly.

And Resistance’s flight deck was a swarm of activity. Every sailor and marine scrambled about, furiously prepping the carrier for battle. From the transport’s portholes, Cass and Bex could see the artillery crews racing to stow power packs along the deck guns. At the same time, every available technician was helping to pull the spacefighters out of storage and ready them for takeoff. And scattered everywhere, officers monitored the action, their synaptic interfaces blinking furiously.

“Christ Almighty,” Bex muttered to Cass. “They’re even setting up the secondary armor. And locking down every auxiliary hatch.”

As Cass’s and Bex’s transport settled onto HVOC Pad 13, the transport pilot called out, “ _You two ladies will have to disembark ASAP! I’m being signaled to stow this craft immediately._ ”

“Understood,” Cass acknowledged. She and Bex released their safety harnesses, opened the transport’s rear hatch, and clamored out onto the deck.

Yeoman Harris was waiting outside. Right away, the young man rushed up to the two pilots, waving a medscanner over both women. Cass ignored him.

“Bex,” Cass snapped, becoming the Commander once again, “once we’re below, signal the other Firetails. I radio’ed in while we were on approach, so they’re expecting you. We’ll resuit, then deploy-“

“Begging your pardon, ma’am,” Yeoman Harris interrupted, frowning at his scanner, “but both of you have to report to SIckbay. You each need a radiation decontamination treatment. A complete medicheck couldn’t hurt, either.”

Cass balked. “Yeoman, my squadron has the top-rated fliers in the fleet. The captain will need us in the air.”

“The captain needs you alive,” argued Harris, standing his ground. “When your fighter exploded, you both were dosed pretty bad with thoranin radiation. Unchecked, it’ll kill you in another sixteen hours. Besides, Resistance isn’t scrambling any aircraft until the Knanti launch their ships.”

Cass exhaled. “Fine,” she grumbled. “Fine. Bex needs a cranium scan, anyway.”

“The radiation treatment will take fifteen minutes, tops,” Yeoman Harris assured her. “Report to SIckbay directly, and don’t wander. No exceptions.”

Harris moved off to scan the transport pilot. Cass and Bex climbed down Pad 13’s gangway.

“Hey, when we get to SIckbay,” Cass ordered, “signal the Firetails anyway. I want to meet with the squad.”

“On it,” acknowledged Bex.

The ship’s external intercom crackled to life. “ _Attention all hands,_ ” a restrained male voice announced. “ _This is the Bridge. Knanti mothership is now decelerating, distance to outer atmosphere: 600,000 kilometers. No attack ships have been detected at this time. We remain at high alert. Duty officers, report your relay status. That is all._ ”

A Comms officer passed by, intently concentrating. His synaptic interface was blinking like crazy.

“Hey,” Cass said suddenly. “Bex, you know anything about the synaptic interfaces? They have a central computer, don’t they?”

Bex gave her commander a funny look. “Yeah, Synap Main. Its below decks, I think. Why?”

“No reason,” replied Cass, wondering why that information was suddenly so important to her. “Come on.”

***** ***** *****


	5. Synap Main

Sickbay’s nurse-on-duty gave Cass and Bex a stern look when the two pilots arrived in Sickbay. “You ladies need something?” she asked gruffly. “Because I have to prep for battle conditions.”

“My copilot needs a head trauma scan,” Cass barked back. “Oh, and apparently we had some radiation exposure.”

The nurse scooped up a neuralscanner, circling Bex as she scanned the Irish pilot’s head. “Hmm, no signs of trauma or damage,” she frowned. “There’s some short-term memory loss. But nothing harmful.”

“Great,” grinned Bex, relieved.

Frowning, the nurse swapped devices. She scanned both Cass and Bex with a radiation detector, and her eyes went wide.

“Good Lord!” she balked. “You two are overdosed in thoranin! Both of you, strip off all your clothes, and get in the Decomm Chamber!”

“Excuse me?” Cass drawled.

“You heard me,” demanded the nurse. “Put everything you’re wearing into Biohazard Recycling! Now! Do it, or I’ll sedate you and have the orderlies strip you down.” As if to empathize the point, the nurse grabbed one of the injector guns lying on a surgical prep table.

With little choice, Cass and Bex complied. The two pilots peeled off everything they wore, then allowed themselves to be shepherded into the plastiglass Decontamination Chamber. The heavy door clanked shut behind them. Naked, they shivered in the cool chamber air.

On the other side of the thick windows, Cass and Bex could see the nurse, already typing away on the medical console controls. Her synaptic interface blinked as she interfaced with the computer.

“This is only a fifteen minute treatment, right?” Cass called out.

“ _Oh no no no,_ ” the nurse chided, her electrified voice made tinny through the chamber speakers. “ _Thoranin treatments are two hours, minimum._ ”

“Two hours?!?” Cass repeated, outraged. “But-“

The nurse slapped ACTIVATE on her console. Immediately, gentle sprays of water and palatin soap began to repeatedly sweep over Cass’s and Bex’s nude bodies.

“ _I’d just stand still if I were you,_ ” the nurse advised. ” _There’s no point in getting all worked up._ ”

She turned, and then was gone.

***** ***** *****

Cass spent the whole time in Decomm pacing like a caged animal. The warm water did nothing to soothe her.

“Boss, please, calm down,” Bex implored.

But Cass couldn’t calm down. The more she tried to settle her mind, the more she wanted to think about Synap Main. She had to go there. She had to go there and do… something. **_She had to!_** This thought was growing into an obsession, an itch Cass couldn’t scratch.

The doors of the medical bay opened. The rest of Firetail Squadron appeared, delighted to be reunited with their lost sisters. The women gazed at one another through the thick plastiglass of the Decomm Chamber.

“ _Commander!_ ” Yanada crowed,. “ _You made it! You look good, girl!_ ”

“Thanks, Yan,” nodded Cass. “Bex and me got a little banged up. But otherwise, no worse for wear.” Her smile faded. “Who’d we lose in the battle?”

The mood was instantly sober. “ _Two wings,_ ” Yanada replied. “ _Jess, Hatchet, Scorch, and Ranai._ ”

“Goddamnit…!” swore Cass, closing her eyes. Hatchet and Ranai had just turned twenty-two.

“Don’t take this the wrong way, but why aren’t you guys in your flight suits, on standby?” Bex asked.

“ _The captain has us on reserves, for the moment,_ ” replied Yanada. “ _In an hour, however, we have to be suited up and ready to go. The Knanti will likely be planetside by then._ ”

“Fucking Knanti,” swore Cass, her irritation increasing.

“So, you ladies look well,” Bex said quickly, changing the subject.

“ _Well, yeah!_ ” grinned Yanada. “ _You know the grunts down in Fusion Engineering? We went to one of their parties, right after the mission._ ”

Deckie rolled her eyes. “ _Yan’s just jazzed because she boned one of the superhotties. You know, the twin with the skull tattoo on the base of his neck?_ ” When Yanada huffed up a bit, Deckie laughed. “ _Stand down, girlfriend, I banged the other twin. PS, every Firetail got some, skipper. Fire in the hole!_ ” she added with a smirk.

The Firetails snickered and high-fived each other.

For some reason, this remark annoyed Cass. “There’s a lot of sex happening in this outfit,” she snapped. “Its not professional.”

“ _Aw, we’re just letting off some steam, Commander,_ ” protested Scrappy, Tomcat’s copilot. “ _Boning relives battle stress._ ”

Cass decided to drop the subject. “Hey, any of you ladies ever been to Synap Main?” she asked.

The pilots exchanged glances. “ _Well, not personally, skipper,_ ” Yanada remarked. “ _Its way down below decks. But Synap Main is Restricted Access; only Commanders and up can go in there._ ”

“ _I used to work down the corridor from Synap Main,_ ” Scraps remarked. “ _Before I transferred into the Flight Corps._ ”

“So… Synap Main is where?” Cass asked intently.

Scraps made a face. “ _Its kinda weird to describe, Commander. Its down on Deck 8, past the Reactor Cores, but before you get to… oh… Well, you get lost a lot when you try to find it. Even the deck plans make it confusing._ ”

“Okay,” nodded Cass. “Alright, everyone: Once Bex and I get out of this medical dishwasher, everyone get to the hanger, suit up, and stand by to deploy. I’m sure the Captain will want us airborne. But Scrap, first you and I will take a little walk.”

The shipwide intercom interrupted the conversation: “ _Attention all hands,_ ” it said. “ _This is the Bridge. Knanti mothership approaching outer atmosphere: 45,000 kilometers. No attack ships have been detected at this time. We remain at high alert. Duty officers, maintain relay status. That is all._ ”

Cass exhaled and flexed her hands into fists. “I hate the waiting,” she said to no-one in particular.

***** ***** *****

Ninety minutes later, an extremely clean Cass and Bex toweled off and changed into flight catsuits. Cass pulled a uniform jumpsuit over her trim body.

“Okay, Scrappy,” she said, “you’re with me. The rest of you, I’ll see you in the hanger. Be ready to scramble on the Captain’s orders.”

“How long will you be, Commander?” asked Yanada, curious.

“Never you mind,” Cass said firmly. “Dismissed.”

After Cass had laced her boots, the young Commander and Scraps were diving into Resistance’s corridors. They could hear the clanks and chugs of the flight deck machinery working away, just outside the bulkhead.

“This way,” Scraps told Cass, pointing toward the crew lifts.

***** ***** *****

Deck 8 was far below Resistance’s waterline. Down here, the rumble of the ship’s engines filled your ears, and there were no portholes. The only light came from plasma lamps in the ceiling, harshly illuminating the corridors of titanium. Instantly, Cass felt jumpy. She hated anywhere that she couldn’t see the open sky.

Ignoring the stares of the below-decks sailors, Cass followed Scrappy’s lead. The younger pilot wove through the maze of Deck 8 with confidence, never once pausing to read the posted section numbers.

“So, Synap Main is the main computer which… directs all the synaptic interfaces?” Cass asked. She had to speak loudly over the constant noise of Resistance’s turbines.

“Technically, Synap Main is a computer core,” Scraps replied, turning into a narrow corridor, just off the Main Reactor Casing. “Whenever you’re flying and you use your synaptic interface to pull up data, you’re mostly talking to the local computer in your spacefighter. But your interface also has a datafeed back to Synap Main. Its there for when you need to upload or download something that’s not in your fighter’s harddrive.”

“Huh,” Cass remarked. “Why the hell did the ship’s architects squeeze such an important computer core down here?”

“Synap Main was put in very recently,” remarked Scraps. “It had to be placed near this access vent. That’s because it has a vertical tie up to its own dedicated broadcast antennae, on the Comm Tower. The tower is directly above us.” She grinned slyly. “There isn’t even a backup Synap Main yet. Don’t tell the Ops guys.”

Cass’s brain was already in action. Once she was inside the Synap Main chamber, she would distract the officer on duty. Then she’d either empty the fire extinguisher into the computer core, or she’d short out the machine’s plasma power supply. Either way, she’d slag the delicate plastic circuitboards of the great machine, destroying it within milliseconds.

“Here it is,” Scraps said proudly.

Sure enough, there was a double security door, marked

**_8-49-02A_ **

**_SYNAPTIC MAIN COMPUTER CORE_ **

**_ACCESS RESTRICTED_ **

There was a small security console next to the door.

“Okay, Scrappy,” ordered Cass. “Rejoin the squadron. I’ll be up in a minute.”

Scraps looked hesitant. “But Commander…”

“Go,” Cass said firmly.

The younger pilot saluted, then retreated back down the corridor. Cass turned to the access console.

The Commander paused. _Why was she doing this?_ It was like she was a salmon, compelled to swim upstream to complete some unexpressed objective. Every fiber of Cass’s being told her that she and Bex should be in the hanger right now, going over her new spacefighter, checking and rechecking all systems, preparing to meet the Knanti in the skies. Barging into Synap Main made no sense.

And yet… Cass could not resist the insistent compulsion within her mind. Her fingers tapped her highest access code into the panel. The double security doors clicked, then swung open slowly.

Synap Main was fairly unimpressive to behold. The center of the room was dominated by a massive computer core, a cylinder of white metal and thousands of blinking LEDs. Plasma power lines dropped from the ceiling into the center of the massive computer, no doubt feeding it. There was a work console to the side, with the on-duty officer sitting there, completely absorbed in the systems check he was running. The floor was grated, which allowed for air conditioning to blow straight upward.

Suddenly, Cass felt an arm, stronger than steel, **_close around her throat!_** Her air was cut off! She was being seized from behind in a headlock!

Unable to breathe, the Commander thrashed about. Her assailant gripped her harder, choking her and forcing her to her knees. Cass helplessly clawed at her attacker’s arm.

“Stand down, Commander,” a woman’s voice growled from over Cass’s shoulder. **_Scraps!_** Scraps was her assailant!

And then, the other Firetails appeared. They all marched forward, their faces stern and their eyes narrowed with determination. Yanada, Deckie, Tomcat, the others… even Bex. Bex was still in her skintight suit, which made her appear naked in Deck 8’s poor lighting.

The pilots swept past Cass and directly through the open doors to Synap Main. Inside, the lone officer on duty jumped up from his computer console, shocked.

“Grab ‘em!” Yanada shouted.

As one, the Firetails pounced, wrestling the officer to the deck. A medical injector gun appeared in Yanada’s hand. She pressed it against the officer’s neck, pulled the trigger… and the man’s body went limp.

“Secure him,” ordered Yanada. “The Commander, too. Bex, take the console.”

Many things happened at once. Deckie and Tomcat grabbed Cass’s arms. With Scraps still maintaining her chokehold, the three pilots hauled the gasping Cass into Synap Main, closing the security doors behind them. Then Cass was released and thrown to the deck, banging her head off the grated floor.

At the same time, Bex hopped into the command chair, her fingers taking control of the duty station.

Yanada turned to Bex. “You can get full access, right?”

“On it,” Bex said confidently.

“Good,” nodded Yanada. Bex worked furiously at the computer.

Down on the floor, Cass reeled in pain. Her confused thoughts swam… And suddenly, as if new knowledge had been downloaded into her mind, she **_remembered_**. She recalled becoming General Schaper’s prisoner. She recalled the Knanti plot. She remembered being hypnotized by Sergeant Ribbos, and she could recall every last word of Ribbos’s subliminal programming. As she worked through the pain, Cass’s mind restored every last memory that had been repressed.

“I have full access,” Bex announced, studying the monitors.

“Good. Disable all lockouts on the antennae,” Yanada ordered. “Bypass the Bridge. Then passively scan all carrier frequencies. The Masters will be narrowcasting by now.”

Bex’s fingers danced over the keyboard. “On it. Scanning…”

Cass grit her teeth. Too late, she saw the trap. All the other Firetails were hypnotized, responding to the carefully-planted commands of the Knanti.

“Got it!” Bex said sharply. “A signal, on 392.48 Terahertz.”

“That’s their hidden channel,” Yanada nodded. “Pull down the package.”

“Downloading now,” acknowledged Bex.

Cass thought furiously. Her mesmerized sisters had **_wanted_** to get into Synap Main, she realized. Like a fool, Cass had opened those security doors, giving the ladies the opportunity to pounce. Yanada had probably even pinched the medical injector gun right from Sickbay.

 _And if Sergeant Ribbos hadn’t counterhypnotized you_ , she grimly told herself, _you’d be just as brainwashed as your sisters. Hell, you’d probably be leading this mutiny._ It was a sickening realization.

“Got the full package,” Bex said with surprise. “Jeez, it’s a real big file. Forty-two hundred hyperbytes! But I was able to pull down the whole thing.”

“Great,” smiled Yanada, pleased. “Now, upload the file to the antennae, and force a download into every synaptic interface within range. Implement directives immediately.”

Raw horror coursed through Cass’s heart. The Firetails had just downloaded a file from the Knanti mothership… and now, they were about to force-broadcast it??? **_The Knanti file would be pushed into the brain of every last one of Resistance’s officers!_**

That couldn’t be good.

Before she could stop herself, Cass was shouting, “Wait, wait, wait!” She scrambled to her feet.

Instantly, her sisters were upon her once again. Scraps, Deckie, and Tomcat all seized her, fire in their eyes.

“Get off!” snarled Cass. She thrashed about. “Goddamnit, listen to me!”

A left hook collided with Cass’s jaw, causing her to collapse to the floor once more. Her vision blurred.

When Cass looked up, all of her squadron save Bex were glaring down at her. Yanada stood the closest; she’d thrown the punch.

“Aw, Commander,” Yanada said regretfully. “I was hoping you served the Masters. We couldn’t risk asking you, of course. Now I’m glad we didn’t.”

“Listen to me,” growled Cass. “All of you have been brainwashed. You’re about to betray the crew!”

“We serve and obey the Masters,” Yanada said plainly. “You did, before today. And you will again.” She turned. “Bex, do you have a prepped unit?”

“Here,” Bex volunteered, handing over the synaptic interface that the duty officer had been wearing. “I just downloaded the Masters’ package into this. It’ll activate once its placed on the Commander’s head.”

“Restrain her,” Yanada ordered. “Pin her arms. And hold her head steady.”

Panicking, Cass fought her sisters with all her strength. But they were too many, and they showed no mercy. Their hands were rough and brutal. Before Cass knew it, she was lying on her belly, pinned to the deck, both of her arms held down with irresistible force.

“This will be a good experiment,” Yanada commented, kneeling directly before Cass. “Now just relax, Commander, this won’t take a moment…”

Cass shook her head wildly, but strong hands grabbed her. Her head was forced into a still position, and then Yanada carefully slipped the interface around her temple. “There,” she said pleasantly.

***** ***** *****

The interface activated, and Cass’s muscles instinctively relaxed, just like they would if she were flying in her spacefighter. The little device scanned Cass’s cerebrum, and then began the data transfer.

A feeling of peace swept over the Commander. New desires were appearing in her mind: _Why fight the Masters? They love you and want only the best for you. You must serve and obey the Masters and they will reward you with endless bliss and mindlessness. You must serve and obey the Masters. You must serve and obey the Masters._

The Masters had instructions: _Once you have accepted our love, you will work silently with the other officers, only those who also belong to the Masters. One-by-one, you will share synaptic interfaces with the enlisted members of the crew. And you will use the ship’s broadcast systems to subliminally plant desires in the crew’s minds. You must download the Masters’ control program into as many minds as possible. You must serve and obey the Masters._

Cass was transfixed. The words of the Masters seemed to be so loving, so wonderful. Like the comforting murmurs of a mother to their small child. In that moment, Cass was an absolute believer. The Masters only wanted the best for her. The Masters wanted the best for everyone. She wanted to serve and obey the Masters. The desire to obey was absolute and irresistible. She needed no orgasm to seal in these commands.

And yet… There was another voice within Cass’s mind.

 ** _From now on,_** Sergeant Ribbos’ harsh words told her, **_you will find that the only voices in your mind which control you are mine and yours. Your Knanti masters no longer have any influence over you. You belong to the human side, forever!_**

And with that “ ** _forever_** ,” the power of the Masters paled and withered. The alien commands sighed exactly once…

…and then they were gone from Cass’s thoughts.

***** ***** *****

The young commander slowly opened her eyes. The other Firetails were watching her, closely.

“How do you feel, skipper?” Yanada asked.

Cass chose her next words with care. “…I feel wonderful,” she replied. “Yes. Wonderful. I must serve and obey the Masters.”

“She understands,” Deckie said with relief. “We all serve and obey the Masters.”

“I serve and obey the Masters,” the other Firetails murmured in agreement.

“No,” Yanada retorted, her eyes narrowed. “No, Commander Tarran’s lying.”

 _Aw, fuck!_ Cass thought with dread.

Out loud, Cass pleaded, “No, sisters, I understand now! We must serve and-“

“Yanada’s right,” Bex pronounced. “The Commander is lying. I can always tell.” Concerned, she turned to Yanada. “Does this mean the Masters’ package is faulty?”

“No,” replied Yanada, sounding unconcerned. “I’m not sure how the Commander is resisting. But the Masters’ wisdom will prevail. We must proceed with their plan.”

“Yanada, listen to me,” Cass growled, making one last attempt. “You have to focus and think for yourself, okay?”

“No, Commander,” Yanada said sadly.

And before Cass could react, Yanada jammed the medical injector gun against Cass’s neck. There was the bite of the needle… the warmth of the drug…

…and then everything faded. Cass tumbled into a dreamless sleep.

***** ***** *****


	6. If Quick, I Survive

The world started to swirl back into existence.

The first thing Cass was aware of was a splitting headache. Her body felt as if it were made entirely from worn rubber. Her muscles didn’t want to move. She groaned in pain.

She was still sprawled on the floor of Synap Main, her every limb aching. The air felt cold. Cass coughed, fighting to regain full consciousness. She peered about.

The Commander was completely alone. The double security doors were wide open, and she could see the red alarms were flashing out in the corridor. There was no klaxon sounding, however. Over the usual low rumbling of the Resistance’s engines, Cass could hear boots pounding, but far, far in the distance.

With difficulty, the young woman climbed to her feet. Her vision swam. Her body felt both heavy and clumsy.

Gritting her teeth, Cass moved to the duty station. The access computer which Bex had accessed was still running, but the monitor and keyboard had been smashed. Bex had not wanted anyone to see what she had done, let alone reverse her work.

Well, Cass wasn’t completely out of options. The Knanti were using Synap Main? Cass could stop that.

There was a small fire extinguisher mounted on the far wall. With some difficulty, Cass rose, unclipped the extinguisher, then primed it. She tested her own balance. She felt well enough.

By standing on the duty station’s command chair, Cass could climb up and peer down into the interior of the open computer core. She emptied the entire contents of the extinguisher directly onto the power sockets that connected the core to the plasma cables.

Right away, there was a shower of sparks, then a burst of pale blue plasma fire. Cass jumped back. The fire suppression systems came on, hosing down the computer core with retardant foam.

But acrid smoke filled the air. Every light on the great computer flickered then went dark as the internal circuit boards shorted out. Synap Main was dead.

_But now what to do?_

Cass bit her lip, thinking quickly. The Knanti controlled all of the hypnotized Firetail Squadron, and were no doubt using the women to spread their insidious mind control program throughout Resistance. And perhaps even throughout the fleet! Or into High Command! The damage to Earth’s defenses would be incalculable.

 _Get a grip,_ Cass willed herself. There had to be a way to save the ship.

The young Commander’s frantic thoughts turned to Bex. **_Bex!_** Bex might be a hypnotized slave to the Knanti… but hypnotic trances could be broken, couldn’t they? What if Cass found a crew locator station, pinpointed Bex’s location, then forced Bex out of her trance? Once Bex was free of Knanti control, she’d know how to reverse the damage she’d caused. **_Right?_**

Hoping against hope, Cass committed to this desperate plan. The thought of sweet Bex brainwashed to serve alien masters was almost too much to bear.

Of course, everything depended on getting to Bex before too many of Resistance’s crew were snared by the Knanti’s mind control.

Gritting her teeth with determination, Cass limped out into the dark corridor.

***** ***** *****

The lifts were not functioning, so Cass had no choice but to take an emergency stairwell. She climbed up to Deck 6, and then froze.

There were two dead servicemen on the landing. Both had been killed by gunfire, and their blood was splattered against the walls and deckplates.

A chill ran down Cass’s spine.

In that instant, she heard the outbreak of more gunshots, below her! The alarmed shouts of men in battle echoed off the walls.

 _Fuck, fuck fuck!_ the Commander thought in despair.

The dead crewmen had no weapons on them. Cass had no choice but to race up the stairwell even faster.

***** ***** *****

Deck 1 was eerily deserted. Cass swore, knowing **_that_** couldn’t be a good sign.

There was a crew locator computer in this corridor. Cass seized it, allowed a retinal scan, then punched in a search for Bex. The computer spat back:

**_USR RESISTANCE CREW LOCATOR SEARCH_ **

**_QUERY: O’Hara, Rebecca “Bex”_ **

**_SERVICE NUMBER: GA-3944-3721-CKN_ **

**_CURRENT LOCATION: Flight Deck, Section 46._ **

The flight deck! What was Bex doing on the flight deck? Was she prepping a Bladehawk for takeoff?

It didn’t matter. Cass just had to reach her copilot, somehow isolate her, then break her out of hypnosis. There was no alternative.

Cass deleted the search history, then hurried down the corridor. There was an access hatch to the flight deck perhaps a hundred meters ahead.

***** ***** *****

The hatch was strangely ajar. Feeling apprehensive, Cass pushed it all the way open, then stepped out into the cool night air. It was nearly pitch-black outside.

Cass looked about, and immediately wanted to scream in despair. In the flight deck’s running lights, she could see thousands of the Resistance’s crew, all standing still, some shoulder-to-shoulder, all looking upward. Every crewman and woman wore a passive expression, as if they were slightly bored. All of them wore synaptic interfaces, blinking away. Not one member of the crew seemed to notice Cass’s sudden entrance.

But directly above… a massive spacecraft filled the entire sky. It completely blocked the sun, and seemed to be hundreds of kilometers wide. Cass could see thousands of sharp green lights on its underbelly, harshly glinting down at the aircraft carrier. Green searchbeams were sweeping over the Resistance, over and over.

“Ohhhh fuck,” Cass groaned.

As she watched, a trio of Knanti transport ships lifted off from Resistance’s secondary landing deck. They sailed into the sky with impressive speed. Six more transports were descending, already positioning themselves to set down further up the flight deck. Cass could see long queues of crewmembers, patiently waiting for the alien ships to land.

Unable to tear herself away, Cass watched in horror. The closest transport made the softest of landings, and then the hull folded back to reveal a wide cargo bay. With no audible communication, a line of crewmembers obediently marched forward, boarding the alien ship.

Aghast, Cass forced herself to watch. Was Bex among those…?

No. Cass couldn’t spot her copilot among the sea of crewmembers. Bex was not among those mindlessly strolling into the alien transport. However…

Cass wanted to sob. Tyedye was in this crowd. The handsome lieutenant ambled forward, looking as if he were joining the chow line for lunch. His face was expressionless.

Feeling a pit of despair opening inside her chest, Cass looked about. The hypnotized Firetails had carried out their masters’ wishes perfectly. The Knanti had mentally enslaved most of Resistance’s crew. Cass was too late to save anybody.

General Schaper had been right. The Knanti were masters at interstellar travel and mind control. They had simply devised a strategy that sidestepped humanity’s superior firepower.

Things would not end here, Cass knew. With the Resistance’s officers as their slaves, the Knanti would be able to mentally infiltrate all of the High Command. Admiral Hutchins was the CIO of Command Intelligence. The secrets he knew were alone enough to cripple mankind’s hope for victory.

Not knowing what to do, Cass helplessly watched her shipmates board the Knanti transport. When the ship was filled to capacity, the hull closed once again. Cass had one last glimpse of Tyedye, who was merely standing still, his face and mind blank. Then the craft rose into the air, and ascended up to the mothership.

***** ***** *****

The access hatch to Deck 1 opened once more, and three young crewmembers spilled out. Cass recognized one of them, Yeoman Harris. Harris and his companions looked terrified. None of them wore synaptic interfaces.

“Commander!” Harris cried. He rushed forward, actually seizing Cass’s uniform. “Jesus Christ, did they get you?”

Harris’ desperation snapped Cass out of her funk. No matter how bleak the situation, she was a commissioned officer. It was her duty to lead.

“I’m okay,” Cass assured the frightened yeoman. “Are you three alone?”

“There’s Marines chasing us!” Harris almost shouted. “They’re carrying stun weapons. Jesus Christ, if they catch us-“

“Never mind,” snapped Cass. She looked about. Two hundred meters to the stern were the HPOV landing platforms. Several smaller transport ships were parked there, being ignored by Resistance’s crew.

“Com’on!” ordered the young woman, then made a dash for the distant aircraft. The three crewmen followed her at a close clip.

And behind Cass’s group, the hatch banged open. Determined-looking Marines poured out, gripping charged weapons. They immediately gave chase.

***** ***** *****

The transports were powered down and disconnected from Resistance’s master generator. Cass cursed her luck. If the hypnotized flight crew had totally locked down all craft, her escape attempt was futile.

But with nothing left to lose, the young Commander threw herself into the cockpit of the first transport. “You three get inside and secure all hatches!” she shouted. “Hurry!”

As her companions scurried to obey, Cass tapped on the transport dashboard. The ship’s computer came to life, innocently asking, **_SECURITY CLEARANCE?_**

Cass’s heart leapt. Maybe the transport’s fuel cells hadn’t been fully drained? She entered her access code, and prayed for good luck.

The computer thought for an instant, then replied:

**_CLEARANCE GRANTED_ **

**_CMDR TARRAN, CASSANDRA [[GA-3942-4827-CTN]] ASSUMES COMMAND_ **

**_TIMESTAMP:: 2219-10-19.13:48.3827_ **

**_WELCOME ABOARD_ **

Outside, there was a harsh banging on the exterior hull.

“We’ve got houseguests!” shouted Harris.

Her fingers flying, Cass fired up the transport’s fusion reactor, the navigation systems, and the maneuvering jets. The emergency fuel, she noted, was alarmingly low… but there was nothing to be done about that now.

There was a massive _CLANG_ as something heavy struck the exterior of the ship. The entire craft rocked. Cass was nearly thrown from her seat.

“Christ, they’ve got a shock cannon!” Harris cried, peering out a porthole.

“Yeah?” Cass snarled back. “Too late for them. Everybody buckle in, its gonna be a fast takeoff!”

She hit the vertical jets, the overdrive, and the throttle, all at the same time.

The transport rocketed upward, springing straight into the air like a jack-in-the-box. The boosters screamed as they channeled nearly 30,000 cubic kiloliters/second of charged plasma out the exhausts. Yeoman Harris and his companions were thrown to the deck. Every alert on Cass’s dashboard lit up, warning of imminent catastrophe.

“Shit, shit, shit, shit…!” Cass muttered, furiously flipping switches. An airborne transport handled nothing like a Bladehawk T-35 Spacefighter.

Before the fusion core overheated, Cass cut power. The transport violently banked to the starboard, then plunged downward.

Everyone in the interior cabin was nearly tossed against the low ceiling. Cass struggled with the flight stick, wrestling to bring the overworked systems under control.

Twenty meters above Resistance’s deck, the retrothrusters kicked in. Cass banked, allowing forward thrust to take over. Moving like a swollen bird, the transport grunted, then shot out over the gray waters. Cass worked carefully to apply more thrust.

Within seconds, the little ship had cleared Resistance’s airspace, and was racing over open ocean.

“Oh, thank God!!!” Harris almost sobbed.

Keeping the throttle at max, Cass glanced at the rear scanner. If the Knanti dispatched fighters, her bulky little transport wouldn’t stand a chance.

But no pursuit ever came. Content with claiming the Resistance and her crew as a prize, the aliens ignored the handful of fleeing escapees.

Cass let out a trembling breath. She set an autocourse for California. Then she sadly watched as Resistance and the Knanti mothership shrank and vanished in the rear display.

***** ***** *****

The transport raced on. Eventually, the California coastline appeared at the edge of the horizon.

“Yeoman Harris,” ordered Cass, “get up here in the copilot’s seat, will ya? I need your hands.”

“I’ve never flown anything in my life,” the yeoman protested.

“You can work a scanner, can’t you?” Cass snapped. “Now follow orders.”

“Yes ma’am,” gulped Harris, and climbed into the secondary command chair. He strapped in, then stared at all the buttons, switches, and monitor screens on his dashboard.

“Pull up the ground scope,” Cass instructed. “Its that set of green buttons, to the left of the Engine Monitoring Systems.”

Harris searched. “Oh yeah,” he muttered. “Right. Here goes.” He activated the sensors.

“Good,” commented Cass, taking the controls and switching off the autopilot. “Now set for beacon signal Gamma-Alpha-Tango. We’re probably not going to see it, but keep an eye out anyways.”

“Scanning…” the yeoman acknowledged. “You, ah, have some friends out this way, Commander?”

“Not exactly,” Cass grumbled. “But I’m hoping they’ll be happy to see us.”

***** ***** *****

For a few hours, Cass crisscrossed over the dead California wastelands, watching her Nav Coordinates carefully.

“Hey,” Harris said suddenly. “Hey, I’m detecting a weapons lock!” His voice rose in alarm. “Someone’s gonna shoot at us!”

“Calm down,” frowned Cass. More than anything, she longed for Bex’s cool professionalism.

The Commander cut her thrust, balanced the vertical jets, then slowly and carefully lowered the transport down to the scorched earth. She was landing in a mountainous region, where there were plenty of boulders and uneven terrain. An entire platoon could be hidden among the rocks and the sensors would never detect them.

“You’re landing?” Harris asked, worried. “You sure you know what you’re doing?”

“Relax,” Cass told him.

When the ship had firmly come to rest, the beautiful Commander cut all power and then shut down the fusion core. She rose from her seat and moved to the rear hatch.

“Okay, no-one has any weapons on them, right?” she asked her companions sharply. “’Cause if you’re carrying so much as a toothpick, leave it here.”

Yeoman Harris and the others shook their heads gravely.

“Good,” commented Cass. She slapped the hatch controls, allowed the door to pop open, and then boldly stepped out into the hot, dry air.

Perhaps sixty human ground troops, all dressed in torn dessert fatigues, were waiting, their phase rifles cocked and ready. Cass stepped out of the transport slowly, then raised both her hands to her head in a gesture of surrender.

In a calm, defiant voice, she declared, “Take me to General Schaper!”

***** ***** *****

The General looked none-too-pleased to see his newest prisoner returned. “Back for more, Commander?” he grunted.

Cass now stood in another artificial cave, this one much larger than the subterrain chamber she’d been held in earlier. This cavern was large enough to be an operational hanger, and already Schaper’s men were antigrav-towing her stolen transport into a maintenance bay, not fifty meters away. Old-fashioned electric lights hung from the ceiling, casting a harsh illumination across the wide space.

General Schaper faced Cass, his arms folded over his wide chest, his expression sour. Cass’s wrists were bound by magnetic handcuffs, and two hulking guards stood on both her left and right. Both of these men, Cass could tell, were combat-hardened killers.

“General,” Cass nodded. “Thank you for taking me and my people in.”

“What the fuck is going on?” Schaper demanded. “My sensor guys monitored the Knanti mothership descend into the atmosphere. All the Defense comm channels went crazy. Now… nothing.”

“There’s really bad news, sir,” Cass said. In exquisite detail, she related everything that had happened aboard the Resistance.

“Oh, fuck…” the General muttered, stunned. He looked lost. “We’re fucked. As a species, we’re totally fucked.”

“General,” Cass said sharply. “We’re not beat yet. You and your men are still here.”

“Once the Knanti brainwash the Resistance crew and then all of High Command, they’ll come looking for us,” Schaper pointed out. “They’ll use hunter drones, orbital scanners…”

“So we don’t have much time,” Cass agreed. “Now is the time to strike.”

Schaper stared at her. “The fuck you talking about?” he scoffed, almost angry. “Command being taken! We’ve lost.”

Cass arched an eyebrow. “ _If quick, I survive. If not quick, I am lost. This is death,_ ” she quoted.

Schaper blinked. “Sun Tzu,” he said, rubbing his chin. “Heh.”

The general studied Cass for a few moments. Finally, he asked, “You got a plan or something, Commander Tarran?”

“Eh, a bit of a plan,” Cass admitted. “Right now, the Knanti think they’ve won, right? They’ve mesmerized our Intelligence forces and they know everything about human deployments. They know about everything except your men, General.”

“My men aren’t much of a threat to them,” Schaper argued.

“Which is why the Knanti strategists will ignore you, at least for a little while,” agreed Cass. “And they have a weakness, sir. We can exploit it.”

General Schaper’s frown deepened.

Cass looked him square in the eye. “ _To secure ourselves against defeat,_ ” she quoted, ” _lies in our own hands. But the opportunity of defeating the enemy is provided by the enemy himself._ ”

Schaper nodded, recognizing his favorite philosopher. “You think we can destroy those fuckers?” he asked plainly.

For an instant, the thought of Bex flashed through Cass’s mind. She set her jaw.

“We have to, sir,” she replied.

***** ***** *****


End file.
